


Only the Naïve Believe

by sunshineflying



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 06:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshineflying/pseuds/sunshineflying
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the <a href="http://1d-bigbang.livejournal.com/">One Direction Big Bang</a>:</p><p>Harry Styles is a young barista working in an old cafe with his friends Louis Tomlinson and Liam Payne. His world is turned upside down at the appearance of the attractive English professor from down the street, Zayn Malik. But things aren't as they seem as Zayn rushes off to clandestine meetings with the mysterious man named Niall Horan, and there's sadness deep in his eyes from something he just won't explain. Determined to fix all, Harry folds himself into Zayn's life just to find out that everything he thought he knew about the man was wrong, and that he's got to find hope even when all bad things seem to happen to the good people Harry cares about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only the Naïve Believe

**Author's Note:**

> I have so many people to thank for this, and I don't even know where to start. First, to my amazing beta and cheerleader [Mariah](http://sunsetswing.tumblr.com), best friend on the interwebs and off. I love you! I'd also like to thank [D'Anna](http://calienteyfria.tumblr.com), for checking Alex's characterization, and [Grace](http://greenbands.livejournal.com), my amazing britpicker. [Angeline](http://sexinforhoran.tumblr.com) was also a fantastic cheerleader and I can't thank all of you guys enough for how much you've helped bring this fic to life!
> 
> And lastly, to [Jess](http://kidnightcrawler.tumblr.com), thank you from the bottom of my heart for making the images in my head a reality! The beautiful art to pair with this fic can be found [here](http://kidnightcrawler.livejournal.com/839.html). Thanks, love! xx

For some, life was as simple as speak and receive. Drip the espresso and let it soak up the steamed milk; it’s all in front of you without a problem. Top it with froth and a design, if you’re extra lucky. Harry Styles’ life wasn’t quite the same, but he didn’t mind because his life was beautiful in its own right and he knew that. All throughout his short eighteen years, he’d lived and loved like every breath was his last. He was genuine and kind and sincere even though the life he’d been handed was less than perfect. It was beautifully imperfect, and it was his.

He’d grown up with just his mum and sister, the two most important women in his life. His grandparents passed young and his father had never been in the picture so the two women were just… all he had. Sometimes his older sister Gemma would have a fleeting memory of the man and share it with Harry, but more often than not they just accepted that their lives contained just each other and their mum. It was the summary of their childhood; playing football in the yard with each other, playing dolls inside by the window when the dreary England rain dripped down from the sky, and protecting each other from the evils of the world.

Even when they met people in school, they remained the light of each other’s lives and a best friend to the other. Their mum Anne was working whenever she could to support her children alone so they looked out for each other while she was away. They’d turn locking doors into a game and bedtime stories into masterpiece theatre. Anne would come home and commonly find Harry and Gemma rolled up in a massive blanket burrito atop a single bed, and she’d smile fondly at how well her children were turning out considering the circumstances.

Gemma turned out better than Harry, or at least that’s what Harry told himself all the time when his positivity fizzled out and he was sleeping in his shoddy bed in the middle of the night, cold and tired but unable to achieve sleep. Anne was filled with unconditional pride, and Gemma remained supportive even though she had flitted off to University after earning top marks in her A-Levels, whereas Harry hadn’t been quite so book smart. He tried really hard and Gemma tutored him when she could, but there was no way she’d give up this opportunity to attend a really good school across the country on a full-ride scholarship. It was something she’d never be able to afford without this offer, and Gemma took off without a look back.

Harry had always been a simpleton though, so he wasn’t completely crushed. He just felt as though he was disappointing his mum a bit. He’d finished school but had no offers. All Harry had to show for himself was a job at a small, but successful café in the heart of London. It was a modest coffee shop, just a hole-in-the-wall place named One Direction Café, owned by an old man named Simon. Simon took a chance on Harry even though he preferred only hiring those with previous coffee experience. His chance paid off, because Harry may not be good with the espresso machine but he had people skills that most could only strive for but never quite achieve.

If someone were to compliment Harry on his ability to befriend literally anyone, he’d just brush it off. He’d say that everyone’s got a story and he just likes to chat with people, and then he’d say that it’s really all thanks to Louis.

Louis is one of Harry’s two co-workers in the tiny little shop. The café has its regulars and Simon helps when he needs to, but usually he’s in the back doing paperwork or the books. Besides, it’s slow enough most days that Harry or Louis or the third guy, Liam, can work alone. When Harry and Louis work together though, they’re quite the team. They’re hilarious and feed off of each other – Louis cracking jokes and Harry telling a story that Louis mocks playfully to make it just that much more amusing. They’re an unstoppable duo and it’s part of why customers like returning day after day - aside from the fact that it’s the cheapest and most delicious coffee in town, that is. But it’s one of London’s best kept secrets and sometimes the guys wonder if Simon prefers to keep it that way – it’s less work for him.

Although the coffee shop is open for quite a while every day – over twelve hours – the three employees, and occasional help from Simon, is all they really need. All three of them; Harry, Louis, and Liam, need the hours. They’re all roommates, sharing one crummy little flat down the street. It’s a massive studio flat with one wide-open area and a little kitchenette. If they work a nine hour shift Simon lets them make a meal for themselves, and that cuts down grocery costs. Plus, the shop’s usually empty enough that one of them can work at a time. It’s not overwhelming; the massive pile of hours each week, while probably illegal it’s such a high number, is exactly what the guys need to survive. Simon pays them well but there always seems to be something broken or some bill that needs to be paid or some family member in need of a few extra dollars.

But all three boys have big hearts and they love and care and that’s what makes them work as a team. They can appreciate each other’s circumstances and values, and more than that, they can give each other what they need – unconditional friendship. Because if there’s one thing they’ve learned growing up, it’s that nobody is _truly_ permanent in a person’s life. There’s always a car that’s not slowing down somewhere, skidding to a stop just a few feet too late, or a sickness that can’t quite be contained in time. There’s always _something_ , and it’s always happening to _someone_ , and fate enjoys making that _someone_ into someone that one of the lads loves. Be it a father, a sister, a pet, or someone else – they’ve seen plenty. So they love with big hearts, hide their problems behind big walls, and they live their lives in the only way they know how – with hard work.

_*_

Every Monday morning is always the same. Harry wakes up, he gets to work early, he turns on the coffee brewers and he sets to work grinding coffee beans and getting the dark roast drip going. He flips the power switch for the espresso machine, well aware that it takes nearly an hour to get heated up and ready. There’s time, since the first regular customer that asks for espresso usually comes in around seven, and the clock is just about to strike six. After casually sweeps the floor, Harry takes a rag to the already immaculately cleaned mugs for the regulars that take their coffee in-house instead of to-go, and then he starts to put some pastries in the bakery case from the adorable old lady down the street. The pastries are a new addition, but Harry persisted until Simon agreed because Harry really wanted to help her pay for her husband’s dream car. They were an elderly couple that struggled the way Harry had his entire life, and all he wanted to do was give back because she’d given him so much hope over the years that he would be okay.

Harry was a veteran at opening the shop alone on Monday mornings. It had been his “thing” for over a year now. He’d started at the café nearly two years previous at the young age of sixteen, but Simon kept promoting him and giving him more hours until there wasn’t any higher he could go. Now Harry opened alone and waited patiently for his first customer.

The regulars all came; Mark and Mindy with their coffees and scones over in the window, Burt with his greasy coveralls and coffee with cream and two donuts to go as he made his way to the car repair shop at which he worked, and of course the nice group of elderly women, all widows, who sipped their Earl Grey tea with their knitting needles and glasses that made their eyes look twice as large when they looked up to smile at Harry.

He’d handled the morning with ease as per his usual, and there weren’t any new people, just as always. Not many people at the coffee shop were new anymore. Harry found himself worrying about what would happen when each of these people slowly began to wither away and pass on, leaving the shop without “regulars”; they didn’t have mid-fifties wandering in, or twenty-somethings, and there were never any new families or parents.

Harry worried about the livelihood of the café quite often. The café’s livelihood was his own livelihood, and without it he was floundering with nothing to do and nowhere to go. His mum already sold the old shack in which he’d grown up in favor of a tiny flat in a cheaper neighborhood, and there wasn’t much space for him there. He didn’t want to uproot his tiny existence and ruin Gemma’s college experience either, so Harry would be stuck.

But worse than any of that, his friends were in the same situation so he couldn’t go to them for help. They had nowhere to go either; Liam lost his parents in a car accident and his sisters were in other countries. He’d never leave England just because he lost a job; Liam was stubborn and he was strong and he’d live in alleyways and library corners before he’d ever ship out of the country just because he needed a job and a place to stay. Louis had his mum’s place to go back to, but nowhere to really sleep there. He had four younger sisters and their stepfather had just walked out on them – the house was tiny and it was a mess, and the worn out sofa would break his back in a week.

So if One Direction Café closed, the three of them would be homeless. Harry hated the thought, but he was also constantly exhausted and knew that Simon didn’t want to advertise the café because it was too much work and it risked chasing away their only loyal customers. It was all such a gamble, and it made Harry uneasy. But he didn’t blame a single soul because he knew that he had to just take life day by day. He had to trust in Simon and continue greeting and smiling to everyone that walked through those doors, even if he’d feel his stomach drop just a bit when it wasn’t someone new, someone that he could woo into staying, and someone that might help keep him and his friends afloat.

Harry would be lying if he said that his heart didn’t soar as soon as he saw a fresh, _young_ new face walk into the café on a dreary Tuesday afternoon. Harry just stared for a moment because the man was the most attractive person he’d ever seen, but he couldn’t think about it like that. He had to just think about it as _this is a new customer and we want him to keep coming back_. The problem was, Harry knew it would be difficult because he wanted to _flirt_.

He rarely found people that he was attracted to but this man was just… immaculate. Dark hair flew down in wisps across his forehead where it appeared to have been styled back in a quiff earlier, Harry assumed. His eyes were deep and dark and brown, and Harry would have probably gotten lost in them had he not read so much sadness and stress within them. “Hey there,” he said calmly, waving at the man as he strode toward the counter.

The man just nodded, and Harry, ever the adaptable one, realized instantly that this man was probably one of the less talkative types. He didn’t open up. Instead he stewed in his pain until it became too much to bear and he snapped. Instantly Harry’s mind flew over the millions of reasons why this handsome young stranger looked so troubled, each one more daunting than the last. Back in the present, Harry tapped the counter to break the tension and asked, “What can I get you today?”

The man looked up at the board and tried to figure out what he wanted. The menu was small; lattes, mochas, and a few specialty drinks were about all they offered since most of their customers preferred plain black coffee or some tea. “Bit of a step down from Starbucks here, innit?” he said conversationally as Harry waited patiently for the order.

“Not quite,” Harry replied with his winning smile and deep dimples. “I like to think we’re more than some well-oiled corporate machine.”

He felt the man’s eyes lingering on his mouth just like with so many others, and he felt like maybe it was okay to keep chatting with him. “I’m Harry, by the way. I work here every Monday morning. And Tuesdays and Thursdays and Saturdays, if you were wondering,” he said, but then bit his tongue because _that was probably too much._

“I’m Zayn,” the man replied simply, and he sounded so calm and laid back but appeared massively tight-wound and stressed out. “And I work up the street at that University every damn day.”

Zayn chuckled a bit at himself and Harry joined in. He liked to make people feel comfortable, and laughing along whether he hears the humor or not is just something he does. It helps him connect with people. But if he’s being honest, Zayn could say literally anything and Harry would hang off of his every word, genuinely loving each sound from his mouth and each expression on his face. Never before had Harry been so smitten with someone upon first meeting – not since Louis, but that’s a different story entirely. To keep the conversation going, Harry commented, “It sounds like you could use something strong but relaxing.”

“I don’t think such a drink exists aside from a nice tall pint of something dark, which I don’t imagine you serve here,” Zayn replied, calming a bit visually as he spoke with Harry.

“I think I know just the thing. D’you trust me?” Harry asked with his massive, mischievous grin.

Zayn just slid a five dollar bill across the counter as a silent bid of _yes, I trust you_ , and Harry’s smile grew. He took the payment and Zayn put what remained in the tip jar before he watched silently as Harry scoots over to the espresso machine.

Harry knew what he was going to make Zayn but he planned to keep it a surprise unless Zayn asked. The man trusted him, and Harry’s met people of his type before. They don’t go through One Direction Café, but he’s encountered them in other places like his mum’s old office when he’d spend time there as a child while Gemma went to music lessons.

A cappuccino – a _real_ one, Harry notes to most customers – is actually fairly strong but can be quite delicious if you don’t mind a strong coffee taste. He set to work steaming some whole milk – it’ll be far more relaxing than something thinner like skimmed milk – and gave it a nice head of foam before he ground up the coffee and pulled out some shots of espresso. In the bottom of a deep red mug that seemed just _so_ fitting for Zayn, Harry poured the espresso first. It filled about a third of the mug, and after that he pulled the milk off of the steamer and used a spoon to hold back the foam while the milk streamed in and brought the mug to about two thirds of the way full. He topped it the rest of the way with foam and gave it a once-around swirl to settle the three layers before he brought it to the counter. “It’s a cappuccino. If it’s too wet or dry just let me know, next time I can fix it right up for you,” Harry said kindly, referring to how much milk compared to foam would be added. The wetter it was, the more milk there would be to drink, and the drier it was, the more foam there would be settling on top instead. It was the most versatile drink they served.

“Thanks much,” Zayn nodded, and the man had just the slightest upturn at the corners of his mouth that didn’t go unnoticed by Harry as Zayn walked away.

Zayn sat in the café for most of the day, sipping at his cappuccino and going over books and papers. Harry did a walk-about of the café to make sure all was still clean about an hour after Zayn arrived, and that was when he plucked up the courage to ask Zayn what he does at the University. “I’m an English professor,” Zayn explained. “Right now I’ve got myself stuck with a first year level literature class which will be total bullshit. It’s pass or fail, and they’ve only got to get 40% overall, so most of the people there won’t give a shit. Worst sort of class to teach, let me tell you.”

Harry laughed and said, “I can imagine. Are your other classes better?”

Zayn nodded, “Yeah, they’re all for the second years so the people there actually care about the content and they _read the books_. D’you know how hard it is to find books for that first year class that haven’t been made into movies, but they’re still good enough to be studied? It’s near impossible.”

“Why can’t they be movies?” Harry asked curiously.

He didn’t understand much about the school system; even though he was eighteen and had finished secondary school, he spent most of his time working and very little time paying attention in class. The final two years of Harry’s education were dismal at best and he had very little knowledge to show for it all. “It’s just a personal rule,” Zayn explained. “If they’re movies, the students will just watch those instead of reading the books, and sometimes there’s a massive disconnect. It’s so obvious, but these kids are just too stupid to realize I can tell the difference, even if I warn them on the first day that I _will_ know the difference.”

Harry laughed again at that, and they chatted until Harry’s three o’clock regulars strode in. “Shit,” he heard Zayn curse after a quick glance at his watch, and before Harry could even say goodbye, Zayn was out the door. And even though Zayn was older and wildly successful in comparison, Harry hoped he’d come back because he wanted to know him, and Harry meant that more than he meant it about anyone else he’d met in a long time.

_*_

Harry wandered through the doors of his massive flat, exhausted from a long eight-hour shift. Monday shifts were always the worst, especially since he had Sundays off so he didn’t really have to _do_ much the day before he jumped back into it all. Louis was in the flat just as always, and Liam was in the café to do the closing shift. It took Harry a moment to figure out where Louis was, and when he did, he frowned.

Louis had Eleanor over.

Eleanor was Louis’ girlfriend, and while Harry was sure that she was a lovely girl, she wasn’t the right girl for Louis. He had to be kept a secret from her family because they were so well-to-do and he was basically what they’d call ‘common.’ It was the sort of romance reminiscent of _Aladdin_ , but Harry kept that comparison between himself and Gemma because she was the only one that didn’t laugh when he said things like that; most people thought he was strange for it, comparing to Disney movies, and Louis certainly wouldn’t appreciate it.

Eleanor’s family had nearly half the money in Britain, Harry would swear. They had four homes, paid for her fees out of their pocket including her fancy one-bedroom flat near campus, but sometimes she’d still end up at their flat and behind Louis’ makeshift bedroom walls – curtains.

Harry sighed as he quietly toed off his shoes. Soft moans were escaping Eleanor’s mouth but there was no bouncing on the bed. _Ah_ , Harry thought to himself. _Louis still can’t do it_. The relationship was the only point of tension between Harry and Louis. Harry hated that the two were together, but Louis said that Eleanor made him feel like he was worth something. No matter how much Louis hated it, Harry would always say the same thing: “You shouldn’t need someone else to make you feel like you’re worth something. You should feel that way because you like yourself, not because someone else likes you.”

But Louis would scoff and keep going back to Eleanor, that petite, gangly girl with expensive clothes and long dark hair. He was polite to her on the face of it but that’s as far as Harry would go to appease Louis. That, and pretending that he didn’t hear the obscene sounds of Louis eating her out as he wandered into the massive cube of a flat where there wasn’t a single wall to divide beds. It was absolutely no joke that he could hear _everything_.

Harry would have left, had he known were he could go. There weren’t many places that he could either afford or enjoy in their area of town, so most nights he sat around watching the basic television that the boys managed to afford. As soon as the TV clicked on, Eleanor let out a squeak and there was shuffling from behind the curtain. “Hazza?” Louis called out.

“’m here,” Harry replied, boredom evident in his voice.

The shuffling behind the curtain grew even more frantic and moments later Louis was leading Eleanor out from behind the curtain, the two of them hand in hand. “Sorry ‘bout that,” Louis said with a smirk, wiping at his mouth.

Harry didn’t look away from the television as he said, “No big deal. D’you finish her off, at least?”

The slap Harry heard (likely Eleanor slapping Louis across the chest) was all he needed to know that _no, Louis had not finished her off_. He wanted to laugh but he couldn’t while she was right there near him. “I’ll call you later, okay?” she said as she pulled on her fancy high heels.

“Sure,” Louis nodded.

Eleanor let herself out and Louis plopped down on the sofa next to Harry. Their single sofa facing the old television propped up on cinder blocks wasn’t the most comfortable of things, but it did the job and that’s what mattered. If it became horribly uncomfortable the guys would just sit on a mass of blankets or pillows – or sometimes even each other. Louis squirmed on the sofa for a few moments before doing just that: climbing up onto Harry’s lap. Harry groaned but didn’t push Louis off. “How was the café?” Louis asked.

Harry paused and bit his lip for a moment before he spoke slowly in his deep, smooth voice, “Someone new came in today.”

Louis’ eyes widened and he looked at Harry in surprise. “Really? Another old biddy? War vet? Tell me more!” Louis pressed. He loved hearing stories about the customers. Each one had their own adventure and if there was something that Louis loved, it was adventures. He was a massive kid at heart, even if he _was_ twenty years old.

“Nah, younger guy,” Harry said, and he felt a blush on his cheeks. “His name’s Zayn. He’s an English lecturer at Uni.”

“Harry!” Louis hissed, scandalized. “You know that much about him after _one visit_!?”

“It’s not a lot,” Harry defended, scowling at Louis.

Louis could see through it all though, and he grinned like the Cheshire Cat as he said, “You love him!”

“Do not!” Harry squealed in protest.

But Louis already had it in his mind that he was going to tease Harry about this. “You do!” he chorused. “Harry loves Zaynie! Harry loves Zaynie!”

“Don’t call him that,” Harry said, shoving Louis off his lap to walk to the kitchenette. He began to prepare some supernoodles as he spoke softly, his blushing and smile faded in favor of simple conversation. “He’s upset about something. I could see it.”

“Everyone is upset about _something_ ,” Louis sighed, sprawling himself out on the sofa over all three cushions.

Harry ripped open the package and frowned, “No, I mean… this wasn’t just a _sad_ look, Louis. It was… he’s seen real tragedies. I can tell.”

There were a few moments of silence before Louis smile dropped and he said solemnly, “You can’t save everyone, Harry.”

“Is it so wrong to want to try, though?” Harry asked. “I mean, he’s such a nice guy. Maybe I should get to know him better. See if I can fix things for him.”

Something flashed in Louis’ eyes and his demeanor switched completely. If Harry had been focused on Louis instead of Zayn, he probably would have picked up on it. “Harry, you can’t,” Louis told him. “He’s a _customer_ , not a _boyfriend_. If he’s as broken as you make him sound, he’s not the kind of guy you want anyway. There’s too much baggage between the two of you. Besides, once he learns you’re only eighteen there’s no way he’ll go for it.”

“Stranger things have happened,” Harry frowned.

But Harry had opened Pandora’s box with Louis. Now that he’d revealed his plan, his hopes to befriend and fix Zayn and maybe even let things turn into _more_ , Louis was determined not to let it happen. He’d steer Harry away from the subject of Zayn and convince him that there was another person out there for him, sometimes using the argument that Harry would find someone just like he’d found Eleanor. Harry usually tuned out after her name was mentioned, but that didn’t mean Louis would stop trying. He’d do anything he could to keep Harry from getting hurt.

*

As luck would have it, Louis didn’t have much of a chance to bring it up because one or the other or both of them were working at any given time that week. Liam caught an awful bout of the flu and even though Simon filled in occasionally, it was down to Harry and Louis. Liam insisted he’d make it up to them, but they just repaid him by keeping him quarantined on a cot in the toilet, their lone closed-off area of the entire shoddy studio apartment.

But while working so many hours that week to make up for Liam being out sick, Louis got to meet Zayn. Not properly, of course, but during the afternoon rush when both of them had to be on staff, he walked through the door in his long sleeved shirt, uneven tie, and sloppy dark hair to order his cappuccino, just the way Harry always made it. Louis raised an eyebrow at Zayn’s request on the first visit – “Have Harry make it, yeah? He knows how I like it.” – but after that it didn’t faze him. Harry obviously made a connection with him, _their customer_ , Louis always had to clarify – and that was it.

Zayn was a handsome man, Louis would grant him that, but it didn’t necessarily make him a good person. He could see the pain in Zayn’s eyes just as Harry could, but that didn’t mean he needed saving. Quite frankly, Zayn looked just fine, aside from the sadness in his eyes. A loved one had probably died, but that was all Louis could gather from the man’s gaze. Zayn didn’t appear to be a mentally wounded soldier or ex-street guy with lots of old scars and maybe a drug history on file with the police. Zayn just seemed to be pained, normally, just like everyone else.

Harry wouldn’t stop talking about him, though, and Louis was getting tired of it. “Well if it’s that big of a deal, ask him out!” Louis shouted angrily at Harry one night.

Liam was out working, his first shift after a whole five days of being out sick. It was just as well; Harry and Louis were exhausted and also becoming frustrated with each other as the current fight would evidence. Harry stared at Louis incredulously. “How is _that_ supposed to help!?” Harry asked.

While he was comfortable with his sexuality, that wasn’t the solution he’d expected out of Louis’ mouth. It was quite frankly a shock. Louis’ voice was dull and full of annoyance as he said, “You want to ask him out, and then you don’t. You want my advice, and now you hate it? Harry, what the _fuck_ is going on in your head? What exactly is your goal with this man? Because it’s confusing and you’ve got to sort it out before you drive me mad!”

Harry sighed. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Tell me what to do.”

“Well you obviously don’t want to give this _saving him_ shit a rest, so you should probably talk to him outside of work. You know, when you’re not meant to be _serving him_ instead of hanging out with him?” Louis’ voice was all sass and sarcasm and Harry didn’t take kindly to it.

Harry scowled and stormed across the room, climbing behind his ratted blue and gray plaid curtain keeping his bed separate from the rest. His blankets smelled because he hadn’t had time to travel to his mum’s for free laundry lately, and he was uncomfortable in his jeans. They were all so tight, but that’s what people had been throwing out lately; he couldn’t afford to go buy a new pair of trousers. Harry sighed and groaned into his pillow.

He didn’t know what he wanted with Zayn. All Harry knew for sure was that he wanted more than he was currently allowed, and that was that. He wasn’t a genius and he had no prospects, but Zayn was intriguing and he didn’t look at Harry like he was inferior. Sure, Harry was probably nearly a decade younger, but what did it matter? Harry and Zayn complimented each other’s personalities in some way and that was something Harry hadn’t found lately.

Harry knew he had to take action, but he didn’t know how. It was all so new and confusing to him, and now he didn’t even have his best friend to go to for advice.

When Liam got home, Harry padded quietly across the flat where he could already hear the steady, even breathing coming from behind Louis’ scarlet red and black plaid curtain. He followed Liam behind the Batman curtain signifying his own little “bedroom” space, and Harry sat down at the foot of the bed.

It wasn’t strange for Liam at all to turn around, shirtless as he changed clothes, to find Harry had silently followed him and taken a seat. He knew exactly what it meant, because it had meant the same thing as long as they had been living together: Harry needed advice.

Liam sighed and sat down on the bed facing Harry, and even though he was exhausted and ready to pass out he leaned back and asked with a coy smile, “What’s in your head, Hazza?”

Where most people would ask “what’s the matter?” or “what’s wrong?”, Liam knew to ask his own sort of question. That was because half the time, Harry didn’t visit just because something was wrong. Sometimes Harry just needed to talk because he liked to think. One night Harry had come to talk just because he wondered if he should suggest a new coffee drink to Simon that he’d made up at work while bored. Another night he just wanted to talk about a TV show he’d seen ads for on and felt like watching. Liam literally never knew what to expect when it came to Harry and what was on his mind, so he just waited patiently for Harry to spill.

“There’s a guy… he comes to the shop sometimes and he’s… Liam, he’s great,” Harry gushed, his grin wide and his dimples cavernous and innocent on his bright, flushing cheeks. “His name is Zayn, and he’s…”

“Zayn? Yeah, I’ve met him,” Liam nodded. “He came in tonight and asked after you. I would have offered a phone number but we haven’t got mobiles yet.”

Harry groaned, upset with his missed opportunity. “Yet another thing we need but can’t afford,” he sighed.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Liam tried to console his friend. “Tell me more about Zayn. I only knew that he wanted a cappuccino and kept coming back to make it wetter.” Liam let out a chuckle.

Harry nodded. He understood the way Zayn worked. Wetter cappuccinos had more milk and less froth in them, making them not quite as strong as a dry cappuccino that had more froth and less milk. He’d learned something very valuable about wet and dry cappuccinos when it came to Zayn’s taste: “You can tell when he’s not stressed because he wants his cappuccinos wet. When he’s really upset or worried about something or under a lot of stress from work, he gets them really dry,” Harry explained. “I’m glad he was in a good mood tonight.”

Liam cast a knowing glance upon Harry and he said, “You fancy him, don’t you?” Harry’s face turned a bright red and he nodded. “How long have you known him?” Liam asked.

Harry bit his lip, his crimson blush never fading. “Erm… a week now, maybe two?” Harry admitted.

With a sigh, Liam cozied in on the bed. He knew this chat wasn’t going to be a short one, nor would it be an easy one. Harry was always the kind of person that would fall fast, and he’d fall hard, and most of the time that caused him to end up miles ahead of someone else in a relationship, if whatever he had with the other person even made it to that level in the first place. Liam had helped Harry through all sorts of heartbreak, and he was fairly certain he knew the reason why, but it wasn’t his place to say anything about it.

Instead, Liam just asked Harry to tell him about how he met Zayn. That set Harry off into a long-winded story, his voice low and humming a comforting tune to Liam’s ears even just as he spoke. Harry’s voice was smooth and silky and could put even the most caffeinated, attentive person to sleep if he spoke the right way. But Harry’s eyes were alight with joy and excitement and he looked like a child as he went on and on about Zayn, his work and his coffee preferences, and _those eyes_ , and that’s what kept Liam attentive.

Liam had to admit that Harry wasn’t wrong when he said that Zayn was a good looking guy. Liam wasn’t into guys in the same way as Harry, but he could appreciate a finely sculpted face like Zayn’s. What person couldn’t, really? Zayn had high cheekbones and a perfectly set, strong jaw, and he had piercing eyes that sort of bore into a person, read them like a book, and then made a swift and accurate judgment right away. His hair was always perfect even if the man looked harrowed most of the time. Being a professor had to be harder work than it appeared.

“What do you think I should do?” Harry asked, finally pulling Liam from the role of listener to the role of advice-giver and friend.

Liam paused and thought about it for a moment. “I think…” Liam sighed. He didn’t want to hurt Harry’s feelings at all, he just wanted him to know what he thought of it all. “I think you don’t know him well enough to know what you really want at this point. But at the same time… I can tell that you care about him a lot. So… maybe just have a chat with him. I’ll cover your shift for a while if you want to duck out when he arrives to sit and talk to him.”

Harry looked up at Liam brightly. “You’d do that for me?” he asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” Liam nodded. “I mean, what have you got to lose? He seems like a great guy and you should talk to him. But… asking him out so soon would be a foolish thing to do. You could scare him away!”

“That’s what I thought,” Harry nodded, his smile fading.

Liam tilted his head and asked, “Did someone tell you to ask him out? Were you going to, is that it?”

Harry shook his head and said, “Well, Louis has just been mad at me lately because I talk about Zayn. He told me to just ask him out or stop talking about him.”

With a sigh, Liam leaned back. He understood a little more of the situation now. It would make living in the flat unbearable until Harry could sort out what was going on with Zayn and figure out how much was just enough chat about said male. But until then, tension would be high because Louis was the kind of person that made sure everyone else was unhappy if he was unhappy. Perhaps that’s why he’d encouraged Harry to ask Zayn out: he wanted Harry to be rejected and consequently, unhappy. “I think Louis just… needs to get used to the idea of you dating, if that’s what this turns into,” Liam admitted. “He’s… protective.”

Liam left out the part about his suspicion that maybe Louis was getting jealous. There were so many moments where Liam had thought Harry and Louis were together because of how close they were; mainly it happened back when they all first met, but sometimes he still got those vibes. Louis might have a girlfriend, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have impure thoughts about Harry. But it wasn’t any of his business what his flat mates did in their love lives. All Liam wanted to do was make sure that nobody would get hurt, if he could help it. He just really liked to save people.

Harry seemed a bit upset now that he was thinking about his situation with Louis, but Liam could tell that Harry was a little more relaxed. He wasn’t tense and he certainly didn’t look as though he was about to vomit with fear. Talking to Zayn in the café was far less pressure than asking him out. Liam doubted that much would come of the friendship with Zayn, but he didn’t want Harry to miss out on something great if he was wrong. “Thanks, Liam,” Harry said softly as he stood up.

“Anytime, Harry, you know that,” Liam nodded.

Harry nodded in return and gently padded out from behind Liam’s curtain and back behind his own where he collapsed onto his bed once more. His thoughts were fast, moving swiftly from one scenario to the next, ranging from the most disastrous of endings to the ideal ending where Harry finally manages to find the love of his life.

He dozed off somewhere around two in the morning, and unfortunately has to roll out of bed just a few hours later. But Harry doesn’t mind much, because working means seeing Zayn, and seeing Zayn has become the highlight of his day.

*

Harry soon finds out that maybe Zayn’s dependability isn’t quite as amazing as he figured it would be. He doesn’t show up right away at eleven o’clock like he’s been known to the past few days. In fact, that day Zayn doesn’t know up at all. He’s gone for three days in a row before he finally re-appears looking worn out and exhausted. “Everything alright?” Harry asked curiously as Zayn approached.

He looked about ready to keel over with exhaustion. “I need coffee,” came Zayn’s curt reply, and Harry nodded.

“The usual?” Harry asked.

“Make it as dry as you can,” Zayn said, and Harry could hear a slight raspy quality in his voice, as if he’d been sick.

“I can make it without any milk at all, just the espresso and foam,” Harry offered. “It’s called a macchiato.”

Zayn raised an eyebrow. “Not according to Starbucks,” he quipped. He used to be an avid macchiato drinker at Starbucks before he discovered One Direction Café.

Harry let out a laugh. “I know. They don’t do it right. We make it the traditional way,” Harry explained. “So… one macchiato. You look exhausted, so this one’s on the house. Go have a seat, I’ll bring it out to you.”

Zayn looked forever grateful and put the money he was going to use to pay for it into the tip jar instead. _Sweet_ , Harry thought to himself. _We can get milk this week._ He hated being so poor, but it made the little things seem so much more valuable. Harry learned to treasure the small things a lot more now that he and his friends were barely scraping by on their meager paychecks.

Harry glanced into the back room where Liam was packing pastries for tomorrow, and he looked sheepish as he asked, “Can we switch?”

“He’s here?” Liam questioned, his eyebrows raised.

Harry nodded and as Liam got closer, he explained, “I think Zayn was out sick, actually. He doesn’t sound well and he looks horribly stressed.”

“Bring him some tea with the coffee then, yeah? Might cheer him up a bit,” Liam suggested.

Harry nodded and Liam put on two cups of tea for Harry and Zayn while Harry made the macchiato. All three cups went on a tray and Harry tugged off his apron, suddenly realizing how horribly underdressed he looked for the occasion. He wore his tight, hole-filled black jeans with worn out boots, the fake suede now completely faded to tearing leather. His shirt was baggy and had seen better days, and the navy blue of it clashed horribly with the black of his pants. Harry’s hair was a mess, tugged back by a ragged scarf, and he felt foolish as he approached Zayn.

Zayn, who seemed so sick and miserable and as though he hardly had time to breathe, let alone do anything else in his daily routine, still looked like he could make any person fall head over heels for him. His facial features were sharp, albeit a bit pale, but his hair was still swept into place and his clothing gave off an air of elderly confidence. He wasn’t even in his thirties, of that Harry was positive, but he wore a sweater vest over a button down shirt, the sleeves pulled to the elbows but the buttons at his neckline open just a bit. There was no tie underneath as there was from time to time, and his dress slacks seemed to be tailor made for Zayn’s slender body. Harry loved the sight of this man, even when he looked worse for wear. Now he just had to hope that this conversation would go well.

As he approached the table, Zayn looked up in happiness and relief. “What’s this?” he asked, spotting all three cups.

“I’m on break, and I thought you could use some tea as well. Sounds like your throat is rather hoarse,” Harry pointed out.

Zayn looked on the brink of breaking down, and he just nodded gratefully as he took a sip of the tea first, followed up by a sip of the macchiato. “Just what I needed,” he commented.

Harry raised an eyebrow and questioned, “Are you talking about the tea, or the coffee?”

Zayn smiled ever so faintly as he answered, “Both.”

With a proud smile, Harry took his own cup in his hands and then asked, “Is it alright if I join you for a bit?”

“Sure,” Zayn nodded, and he seemed to like the thought of company if the way the corners of his mouth turned upwards was any indication.

“Great,” Harry beamed.

Once Harry took a seat across the small table from Zayn, he suddenly found that words weren’t as easy as they were with a massive counter separating them instead. Now he was sitting there as Zayn’s equal instead of the person serving him, and it was strange for Harry. He fumbled with his fingers as Zayn pulled out a massive portfolio of papers to grade, and he searched for words until he spoke awkwardly, “So I erm… I noticed you haven’t been around lately. Not that I was really watching for you or anything, but erm… I’m just wondering if everything is okay?”

Harry fixed his gaze across the table on Zayn, who looked softly up at Harry through his long, dark eyelashes. His eyes captured Harry’s full attention and made his heart skip a beat, and he felt like a little boy again as Zayn licked his lips before he replied, “Yeah, mate. I mean… just been dealing with a bug; sickness and the like, y’know? It’s been going around at home. But… this tea will be great. Thanks.”

Curious, Harry raised an eyebrow and asked, “Do you live with other people?”

Zayn’s eyes were flooded with sadness, as was his whole expression, and he just nodded, “Yeah, her name is Alex.”

Suddenly, hearing that Zayn lived with a girl all started to make things click in Harry’s head. He frowned, but wanted to continue the conversation. He wanted to get to know Zayn even if the two of them were destined to be nothing but friends. “Are you two close, then?” Harry asked.

Zayn nodded again, sipping at his tea as he spoke. “Yeah. I’m all she has, really.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, because he could just sense through the tone of Zayn’s voice and what he was saying that someone had passed away and he needed to sympathize.

He wanted to know more, ask a million questions, but Zayn pulled out the first paper and Harry stood up. “Break time’s over. I’ll let you get back to your work,” Harry said.

“Cheers,” Zayn nodded, acknowledging that Harry was walking away.

But Zayn didn’t tear his eyes away from the papers after that, probably because he was trying to catch up after being out sick. Harry trudged behind the counter when he finished chatting with Zayn, and as there was a lull in customers, Liam walked over expectantly to hear what Harry had to say. “How did it go?” he asked eagerly.

Harry shrugged and just kept scrubbing at the counter, wiping away drops of coffee he’d spilled earlier. Liam was confused and pressed on, “What happened?”

It took a few moments for Harry to reply, but he would. He always would. Liam knew that Harry wasn’t physically able to keep things bottled up; he had to burst, at least to one person. Usually it was Liam or his sister Gemma, but from time to time it was someone else. Harry swallowed hard and glanced up at Liam with such sadness in his eyes that Liam wasn’t sure he could bear to hear it. He was surprised when Harry confessed, “He lives with a girl. He says he’s all the girl has left. I can’t try to get involved with him now. It’d be stupid. I can’t ruin the only good thing she has left.”

Liam frowned. He hadn’t been expecting to hear that. Being honest, he’d thought that Harry had already chatted with Zayn enough to know his dating status and all of that. However, now it was just his job to make sure that Harry was okay. “Why don’t you let me take the rest of your shift,” Liam suggested. “You can go sleep it off or something.”

Harry shook his head. “No, I don’t want him to think that I’m upset by what he told me,” Harry sighed. “It was stupid of me to want a chance with him, anyway.”

Liam nodded, but thankfully Harry’s shift ended in a few hours instead of having just started. Just as usual, Zayn sat and graded papers until half two and then he rushed out the door, always in a hurry like he almost forgot that he needed to be somewhere else. Harry sighed and as soon as Zayn was out of sight, Liam nodded. He’d been hanging around behind the counter for a while, helping Harry out while he moped, but he’d officially take over now and let Harry go a half hour earlier. Harry hugged him, thankful for the reprieve, and then rushed home to the flat.

When he got there, he sighed. It was just like usual. Shiny black pumps worth more than Harry’s life strewn by the door, Louis’s curtain pulled taut to keep privacy, and obscene sucking and slurping noises coupled with a female’s moans. _Of course_ Louis was eating Eleanor out again. Harry rolled his eyes and kept silent this time, opting to just fall quietly onto his bed and let out a sigh. He didn’t think Eleanor would forgive him if he interrupted them yet again, even though he didn’t care much. Harry would be extremely frustrated if he was cock blocked twice. Not that he had anyone to fool around with in the first place, but Harry was just a considerate guy in general, so he kept his mouth shut.

Eleanor’s moans grew more ridiculous and high-pitched until finally they came to a loud and annoying conclusion. There was much shuffling and Harry heard the unmistakable utterance of curse words as Louis emerged from his bed to find Harry’s boots kicked off near the doorway. “He’s home? Why didn’t you tell me!?” Eleanor exclaimed.

“I didn’t know!” Louis supplied lamely.

He looked around but didn’t spot Harry anywhere. It was obvious that he was hiding on his bed, but Louis wanted to see Eleanor off before he worried about Harry. Eleanor slid on her high heels and leaned in for a kiss. She pulled a face and said, “You always taste terrible after you do that.”

“I know,” Louis nodded without a hint of amusement on his face.

That caused Eleanor to look scandalized, and she just huffed and said, “Next time I want you to fuck me, instead.”

“We’ll see.”

Harry rolled his eyes. He knew exactly why Louis didn’t fuck her. Most guys would kill someone or sell their first born child just to stick themselves in Eleanor for a few minutes, but Louis didn’t. He wouldn’t and he couldn’t, because as he’d confessed while incredibly drunk and bitching about how much he generally despised her; he couldn’t even get it up fully when they fooled around.

Eleanor’s heels clicked powerfully as she stormed out of their flat, and she closed the door behind her with a slam. Louis sighed and paused for a moment to brace himself for Harry’s moping before he let himself in behind the curtain and sat down on Harry’s bed. “What’s the matter, Hazza?” Louis asked.

He reclined on the bed next to Harry, and when he didn’t get an answer immediately he rolled onto his side, his head propped up on his hand, and he used his other hand to gently massage Harry’s back. “You could have at least told me when you got back,” he said, trying a different tactic instead.

“She deserves more, you know,” Harry said, happy to avoid the subject of Zayn because he didn’t want to see Louis’s smug face at the news.

Louis scoffed anyway, and he replied, “Her father could probably hire a hit man to off me if I broke up with her. No, if I give unsatisfying head and refuse to fuck her for long enough, she’ll dump me and I am fully okay with that.”

Harry sighed. He relaxed a little as Louis’s hand drew smooth shapes into his back, and he groaned as he said, “At least you’ve got somebody.”

“Things with Zayn not going well?” Louis asked, trying desperately to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

Harry rolled onto his back and Louis’s hand stopped petting. Instead it just rested on Harry’s stomach, his fingertips splayed over the hem of Harry’s shirt, a few fingers dancing over bare, exposed skin. Harry shivered at the touch but assumed it was because the room was cold. He didn’t even think of Louis in that way. This was just how they interacted, and in that moment Harry’s mind was somewhere entirely other than focused on Louis’s hands. “There is no _thing with Zayn_ ,” Harry replied, his voice full of tension and slight disappointment.

“Really?” Louis asked, a hint of sarcasm seeping through this time. “Because I could have sworn that for the past week and a half you’ve been obsessing over him and mooning over him like he’s the bloody Rose to your Jack.”

Harry rolled his eyes and rested one of his hands behind his head. He sighed and said, “He lives with a girl.”

“Ah, so he’s straight. And he’s taken. That _is_ quite a problem,” Louis said, but he sounded anything but sympathetic.

Louis was met with a strong glare from Harry, who wanted more actual advice and responses instead of just sarcasm that he didn’t appreciate or find amusing. “Look, Harry, it’s just not meant to be for you two, and that’s fine. Sometimes that’s how these things work,” Louis shrugged. “He’s older, he’s taken, he’s got a career and a life and that’s totally separate from you. It’s not the end of the world.”

“It feels like it,” Harry pouted.

Louis brought his hand away from Harry’s stomach and used it to push the long, dark curls out of his face instead. “You fall too hard and too fast. You should work on that,” Louis said simply.

Harry huffed, and he sat up and stormed off as he said, “And you don’t fall at all. You should work on _that_.”

Louis watched sadly as Harry stormed off to the loo where he proceeded to lock himself in for nearly an hour. It wasn’t that Louis didn’t fall for people; it was that he always fell for the wrong people. Like… someone other than Eleanor, even though he was dating her. But he didn’t want to screw anything up, and he quite liked watching from afar instead. So Louis kept his mouth shut and continued life with his air of confidence and nonchalance in the dating department, and it kept him from screwing anything up. Things just worked out better that way for everyone involved, especially Louis.

*

In the days following, Harry tried really hard not to act like anything had changed. In a lot of ways, it hadn’t. Harry had learned more about one of his customers, and he just had to keep reminding himself of that. There was nothing special or significant about his relationship with Zayn because it was just a casual acquaintance sort of deal. There was no romance, no outside-of-work encounters, nothing, just Harry making Zayn coffee.

Liam sensed the tension and the frustration, but he had no words of advice. Liam was in a happy relationship with a girl that lived across town. She went to Uni but would probably drop out soon; dance was her passion and no amount of books or university training could change that. No, Liam’s girlfriend Danielle was bound for greatness. They didn’t see each other often but when they did, it was wonderful. It was obvious to everyone that saw them that they were head over heels in love.

Danielle and Liam had been together since they were fifteen; four years later they were still going strong and they would probably always be together. They had no immediate plans to get married or settle down, and they didn’t live together like most people did after that long, but it was okay. The two of them shared such an innate trust and honesty that nobody could ever doubt that they were strong in their relationship. But Liam couldn’t remember a life without a relationship with Danielle in it, so he was at a loss when it came to giving relationship advice, at least on the subject of beginning a relationship.

He was there for Harry in every way that he could, though, and mostly that meant being a soundboard for him. Harry talked Liam’s ear off almost every evening now, chattering about who Alex could be instead – _I bet she’s not a girlfriend. Maybe she’s his mum? Or… or maybe a sick sister?_ Harry kept trying to come up with excuses, but then Liam pointed out one day that Zayn even had a ring on his finger. He was _married_. Harry had been crushed, to the point that he couldn’t work, and Liam sent him home early, taking over his own shift early, working a thirteen hour day just to hopefully compensate for how much more he’d just increased Harry’s pain.

But the pain seemed to disappear every time Zayn walked through the door of One Direction Café. Zayn always found the energy to smile at Harry, to ask about his day, and Harry would know by then just how dry or wet to make Zayn’s cappuccino. When Zayn sounded stuffy or raspy, Harry would include a cup of tea at no extra charge, and overall they’d made a loyal customer out of Zayn.

Harry wanted more, though. He probably always would.

The days turned to weeks, and before they knew it the colors of the leaves had shifted, made a mess outside the doors of the run-down café, and now December had inched its way into their lives. Harry knew that January exams were coming up. He could tell by the increased demand from Zayn for dry cappuccinos and even the occasional macchiato, something extra strong to dull the oncoming headache of being a university lecturer.

Harry sighed as he noticed that the ring never left Zayn’s finger, or that he became more and more distressed as the semester had worn on. Zayn rarely smiled now and Harry was worried that the bags under the older man’s eyes would become permanent. “Maybe he just needs to talk,” Harry supplied as he stood behind the counter at work with Liam.

Snowflakes were falling, the first bout hadn’t stuck but this bit of snow looked like it would, and the shop had a cozy feel about it. But Zayn’s little corner and his table strewn with papers seemed to emanate coldness and exhaustion. “Well… it’s slow. Go have a chat with him, then,” Liam nodded.

Harry poured two cups of tea and took them out to the table where Zayn was poring over a paper that looked as though it had seen better days, before all the red marks he began making all over it. “Hey,” Harry said nervously.

Zayn looked up and seemed to snap out of his daze. “Hey,” he replied, pushing his hair from his face slowly.

“Can I join you? You look like you could use a break,” Harry offered as he held out a mug of tea for Zayn.

With a nod, Zayn gestured to the other seat and tried to move the mass of papers out of the way. He looked far more harried than he used to; he no longer bothered looking like a respectable professor, at least not while he marked assignments. He had a sweater vest over a button down shirt, but there was no tie and he had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows revealing a myriad of different tattoos. Harry was instantly intrigued as to Zayn’s past, but kept his mouth closed. Zayn’s hair was no longer quiffed to perfection, and rather it hung in lazy drapes over his forehead, blocking his eyes from view at times. “Everything alright?” Harry asked curiously.

Zayn sighed and took a sip of tea before he responded, “It’s almost exam period. Suddenly everyone is turning in assignments, and they’re _shit_ , too, so they take so much longer to grade. It’s awful. That’s what I get for signing on for this job though, eh?” Harry just nodded, and Zayn took that as an open invitation to continue, “Things at home are rough, too. Alex can’t sleep at night and I’m too tired to stay awake at night, and… it’s a terrible mix, let me tell you.”

“I know how you feel,” Harry nodded, but then realized he really didn’t. “I mean, erm… well, being really tired, I mean. Not the… not the other bits about other people and all that. Or school. I’m not in school.”

Zayn raised an eyebrow and asked, “Why not?”

“I’m not very good at it, and besides, I’m lucky I made it through school at all. There’s no way I’d make it in Uni. I’m better off here,” Harry explained, but Zayn looked unconvinced so Harry admitted, “And I can’t afford it, basically.”

That reasoning made a little more sense in Zayn’s mind, and he nodded. “I get it, yeah. The only reason I decided to teach at a Uni was so my kids could afford it one day. And now look at me,” he gestured to the mess around him on the table. “It doesn’t seem quite so worth it anymore.”

“It will be, just you wait,” Harry said optimistically. “I think it’s admirable that you’d do such a thing. What does your um…” he glanced down at Zayn’s ring. “What does she do?”

Zayn seemed to freeze for a moment before he slowly rolled with the question and gave a quick reply, “She doesn’t.”

“O-oh,” Harry nodded, feeling awkward and foolish for bringing up Zayn’s home life. It was quite obviously a touch subject. “Will you be done with exams at Uni soon? That should free up your time. Y’know, give you a chance to catch up on sleep and all that.”

Zayn nodded, “Yeah, finals are… _shit,_ hold on a second.” He fumbled in his pocket for his mobile, and as he pulled it out he silenced the ringer by answering the call. “Zayn Malik speaking,” he said formally. It was weird for Harry to hear Zayn speak so formally. It was also weird for him to hear Zayn’s full name; he’d never heard it before. “Yeah, I understand.” He nodded again, and Harry just sat quietly and patiently as Zayn took his phone call. “Sure… yeah, I… I can be there. I’d like that, yeah. I…” Zayn seemed quite worried and he was bright red as he frantically shoved his things in his bag while he spoke on the phone. The device was propped up between his ear and shoulder, and Harry wanted desperately to help but he didn’t know how. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon. See you soon. Bye.” Zayn hung up, nearly dropping his phone in the process. If Harry didn’t know any better, he’d say that Zayn almost looked _flustered,_ but that couldn’t be, since the person on the other line was a male. Harry could hear the low, booming voice just barely through the speakers.

Did that mean…? Harry just sat there lamely as Zayn packed up his things and said a rushed goodbye before sprinting out the door. He spun around to look at the door, already closed behind Zayn, and then he took the cups from Zayn’s table to bring them back behind the counter. It made no sense to Harry, the sudden urgency and the reaction the phone call elicited from Zayn. The pieces of the puzzle just weren’t fitting together. Was Alex okay? Did the man on the phone have something to do with her situation? Harry couldn’t take his mind off of it. “Scare him off again, didja, Harry?” Louis teased as he sat at a table with Eleanor just a few feet away from the counter, tugging Harry from his jumbled thoughts.

She’d never set foot in One Direction Café before; Eleanor was so devoted to her Starbucks and she said that the café was just too low-class for her to be seen in. But Louis had dragged her there anyway, probably under the bribe of a good fuck afterwards that she would never receive. Harry sighed and didn’t even dignify Louis’s question with a response. Instead he just put the dishes in the back and then shook his head when Liam gave him a questioning look.

But that night, Liam cornered Harry and wormed the entire story out of him, and by the end of it both of them lay questioning Zayn’s morals and intentions. Would he really do that to a person? Would he really cheat on his _wife_ with a _man_? It didn’t sound a thing like Zayn, but everything was spelled out right in front of them. Harry felt his heart breaking as he realized that this idolized version of Zayn that he held in his head had been completely shattered. It was rough, but he had to come to terms with it. There were no other options, and as Harry had reminded himself for the past few months, Zayn was just a customer anyway. Customers were allowed to do whatever they wanted with their lives; they didn’t need Harry or anyone else trying to steer them in the right direction. He just had to accept that this was who Zayn was, and that this was the man that captured Harry’s attention.

He also had to stop the nagging in his head that said if Zayn would cheat with one man, he’d cheat with another, because Harry couldn’t do that to Zayn’s wife. He’d never be able to live with the guilt.

*

“She’s been drawing lots of pictures in class lately,” a dignified, put-together blonde man told a frazzled Zayn as they sat at a table far too short for them.

“Mr. Horan,” Zayn began.

“Niall,” the blonde, Niall, insisted. His Irish accent was strong and obvious, but it wasn’t brash. Niall had a voice that was smooth and comforting, and it put Zayn at ease just a little bit as he stewed in his own thoughts.

Zayn nodded and swallowed hard. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair; the blonde patch at the front was fading quickly. “Look, she’s…” he began. He struggled for words.

All in all, Zayn felt ridiculous and ill equipped about ninety-nine percent of the time when it came to Alex. She sat at a table just a few feet away, crayons clutched in her chubby little hands as she doodled away on some paper, oblivious to her father and the conversation he was having with her teacher. Niall just watched Zayn closely, trying to read him, to figure out how, as her teacher, he could help. “She’s going through a rough time right now. It’s probably her way of coping,” Zayn explained.

“I understand,” Niall nodded. “The loss of a loved one is always difficult. Children don’t always know how to cope with it.”

Zayn looked harried, and he looked down as he buried his face in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. He sat at a chair designed for a toddler at playgroup, at a table just as low, and Niall did the same as he sat across from him. Niall didn’t speak, and he gave Zayn a few moments to compose his thoughts. “How am I supposed to help her deal with it and move on when _I_ can’t even do it myself?” Zayn asked sadly.

He looked up at Niall, eyes rimmed with red, unshed tears because he had to be strong for his daughter. “Zayn, you have to know that I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re feeling,” Niall spoke sympathetically. His voice grew softer when he noticed that Alex looked over at them. “It’s a huge loss for both of you. You can’t just heal from that overnight.”

“I can’t be a dad _and_ a mum,” Zayn said, his voice pleading and full of sadness as a few drops of emotion slid quietly from the corners of his eyes.

Niall, as always, just let Zayn have his moment of emotion and sadness before he ever tried to help. “She draws Perrie all the time,” Niall said. “She loves her mum. The important thing is that she keeps these happy memories of her mum… she has no idea the battle your wife was faced with. The chemo, the pain… Alex doesn’t know any of that. She only saw and remembers the good, and you need to keep that in her mind. But at the same time… it can’t _consume_ her mind, you know?” Zayn nodded, and then Niall took a deep breath before he suggested softly, “If she can stay about an hour extra each day, we can set her up with a school counselor. One of them is trained in dealing with grief and loss, and she’s chatted with me a few times about talking to Alex.”

Zayn looked up at Niall sadly. “It’s a great idea, but… I don’t want her to resent me,” he confessed.

“Why would she resent you?” Niall asked curiously.

Zayn set his hands down on the table, fumbling with a hang nail as he avoided Niall’s eyes and opened up, about to open up and share one of his biggest fears. “I don’t want her to think that I tried to get rid of her after… after Perrie…” he stammered over his words and took a deep breath.

“Why would she ever think that?” Niall questioned immediately. He seemed truly shocked that such a thought had ever crossed Zayn’s mind.

“She looks just like her, mate,” Zayn said simply.

They both glanced over at Alex, who was happily scribbling yet another photo of her mum, the digital photographer with quirky purple hair and a bright smile coated with candy red lipstick. Alex had idolized Perrie in the few short years she’d known her. Alex was convinced that mummy was just “on vacation,” as she told Zayn, and it always broke his heart to hear her so hopeful when she asked when mum was coming back. She smiled and waved at both of them, her bright blue eyes sparkling just as Perrie’s had. The only trait of Zayn’s she seemed to have inherited was tanned skin and dark hair. But even with those, Alex was the spitting image of her mum and every day Zayn was reminded of it. She was beautiful, and Zayn told her so every day, sometimes even more than once because he missed being able to say it to both her _and_ Perrie.

Zayn was snapped out of it by a warm hand covering his, and he glanced up to see Niall looking at him sympathetically. Niall seemed surprised when Zayn’s hand didn’t shrink away like it always did. Niall had this instinct to just touch, to comfort, when he saw someone in pain. He’d helped Zayn through so many months of this that they were more like friends now, and it was appropriate given their friendship and the circumstances. “You’re doing a wonderful job, Zayn,” Niall insisted. “And yeah, she looks like her mum but that’s a beautiful thing. You’ve both got this constant reminder of Perrie and what a wonderful woman she is. She’s _always_ going to be remembered on this earth. You and Alex keep her memory alive.”

With his free hand, Zayn reached up to wipe at the stupid tears that kept springing to his eyes. He hated getting emotional like this, but the only time he could ever let go and show his emotions was when he had meetings like this with Niall. Alex had nightmares without him there next to her, so he couldn’t just escape to his room and cry. She curled up against him and together they stewed in their insomnia and memories.  Every night was the same, and every night brought just as little sleep as the night before.

Niall tilted his head to try to get Zayn’s attention again, and he asked, “So, what do you say we set her up with the counselor for a while? See if that makes a difference?”

Zayn opened his mouth to answer, but he felt a tiny hand tugging at his sleeve. He looked down to see Alex looking at him innocently. “Why’re you sad daddy?” she asked softly.

He forced a smile and blinked the tears away as he pulled her into his lap. Alex hugged him and Zayn just closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of love he always got in such an overwhelming dose when she hugged him. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just having a good talk with Mr. Horan,” Zayn explained.

“Am I in trouble?” she asked fearfully.

“Not at all,” Niall spoke up with a smile. “I just wanted to ask him if it was okay to introduce you to more people at school.”

Alex looked up timidly from where she lay cradled against Zayn’s chest and her blue eye’s locked with Niall’s as she asked, “Why do I need to know more people?”

“Don’t you like having friends?” Zayn questioned, a comforting hand rubbing up and down her back.

She shook her head and buried her face in her daddy’s chest. “No,” she said simply.

Concerned, Niall and Zayn both looked at her while Niall asked, “Why don’t you like your friends, Alex?”

“They ask me about my mummy and they tell me she’s never coming back,” Alex explained, her voice muffled by her father’s shirt.

Zayn’s eyes closed and he tried so hard to keep some semblance of composure as he held back tears. For being a man in his upper-twenties, he was sure on the verge of tears a lot. It was hard dealing with the loss of Perrie; she’d swept him up in a whirlwind when they first met.

She was just a photography student, wandering campus as an undergrad while he was finishing up his grad work, and she’d subtly tried to take his photo. She chatted him up with some corny line about how he could be a Vogue model, asked him to be the subject of a photo shoot she needed to do for class, and when he showed up at her place there was a delicious dinner planned instead of a set for photos. “I made up the assignment,” she’d grinned as she ate some of the pasta she’d prepared and waited for Zayn to join her.

“Why?” he’d asked curiously as he sat down at her tiny dinner table.

“Because I wanted to see you again.”

She was so flirty and full of life that Zayn would be crazy to ever say no. It was a mere six months before he proposed, and they were married within a year of that. He’d been head over heels from the start, her quirky nature and constant smile always reminding him that life was too short to be serious all the time. She’d injected life back into his mundane existence and now that she was gone… it was like the life was sucked right back out of him. And now his daughter was suffering for it. Zayn cursed the world, sickness, and so many other things, but none of it would ever bring his Perrie – _their_ Perrie – back to them.

Niall brought Zayn out of his thoughts and back to reality as he said to Alex, “I promise you this friend will be nice. She’s a grown up like me and she just wants to hear all your thoughts about your mummy. She cares a lot about your feelings so she’d never say anything mean.”

Alex didn’t move for a moment and at first Zayn thought she’d either fallen asleep or decided to ignore Niall, but then she slowly moved, one of her pigtails tugging against the lapel on his shirt and growing lopsided from the other, and she met Zayn’s eyes. “Should I do it daddy?” she asked.

“I would love it if you did,” he told her honestly. Zayn wanted anything for Alex that would help her cope.

She thought about it for a moment and then nodded simply. Alex looked over to Niall and said, “Okay. I’ll meet her once and if she’s mean I won’t meet her again.”

Niall flashed her a bright smile, the only smile that could tug one onto Alex’s face as well, and he said, “Deal.”

Sometimes Zayn would sit and think on life since Perrie passed away, on the people that could make life as normal as possible for Alex, and Niall was always on the top of that list. He wished Niall could teach her for the rest of her life, because when nursery school ended and she had to enter reception, she’d be leaving Niall behind and they’d be taking a risk of encountering a teacher that wasn’t so sympathetic.

Zayn always lived in fear of someone telling him that _enough time had passed, it was time to move on_. He didn’t know what the timeline was for this sort of thing, or for a four year old, or whether he’d have to deal with this pain forever. As always, Zayn just wanted answers, but this time he couldn’t find them anywhere. It wasn’t like school where he could find everything he needed to know in a library, one clear-cut, concrete answer to make all the doubt and worry dissipate. This was something different, intangible and uncalculated, and he didn’t like it one bit.

After making arrangements to start sending Alex to a counselor, Zayn cradled her in his arms as they walked to the car, and he offered her a stuffed animal to cling to on the drive home when she didn’t want to let go of him. Alex always did this; it was as though she was scared that Zayn would disappear just as Perrie had. He wished he could explain it to her in a way that she’d understand, that he wasn’t leaving and that Perrie hadn’t _chosen_ to leave. She’d clung to life as long as she could but goodbyes had to be said eventually.

There was just so much that Alex didn’t know, and so much Zayn wished he never had to tell her.

*

“You’ve got to stop brooding, Harry.”

Louis walked into the room on an early, snowy Saturday morning. Liam was down at the shop, shoveling a path to the doorway so the café could open, and Harry hadn’t been able to sleep all night. Thoughts of Zayn, infidelity – the whole thing with Zayn in general – was haunting Harry. His conscience told him to try to set things right, to fix things for Zayn so he kept himself from being so upset and stressed, but Harry hadn’t the faintest clue how.

He glanced up sleepily from his cup of tea to see Louis looking a mess just as he always did after sleeping. His hair stood up every which way and made him seem taller, and his clothes were rumpled but oversized and draping, making Louis appear tiny and petite. Harry was a mess, as well, but not in the cute, put-together way that Louis always was. Harry knew he smelled; he needed a shower, his hair was all greasy, and his laundry needed to be washed.

With a sigh, Harry followed Louis with his eyes as Louis wandered in to get himself a cuppa, and asked, “What’re you on about?”

“You’re brooding,” Louis said seriously as he poured his tea and then sat down next to Harry at their counter kitchen bar decked with mismatched chairs.

“Something needs to be done,” Harry pointed out.

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, Louis cried out, “Oh for god’s sake, Harry! Are you still on about that thing with Zayn?”

Harry fidgeted in his seat and didn’t deny it. Louis knew him too well anyway; if Harry tried to deny it Louis would just worm a confession out of him anyway _and_ give him shit for not admitting it straight away. Annoyed, Louis continued, “Harry, Zayn’s life is _none of your fucking business_ , if I’m being honest.”

With a heavy glare fixed in his eyes, Harry looked up at Louis, who didn’t seem to want to stop. “Why does this bother you so much?” Louis asked. “You can’t _save him_ , Harry. You’ve got to get that stupid idea out of your head! Zayn’s a grown man with a family and he’s obviously unhappy with that life so he’s found someone else to make him happy instead. Who cares what he’s doing or how he’s going about it? It’s not hurting you! What Zayn does affects you in _no way_. And I know you care about his wife – whom you’ve never met, I’d like to point out – but it’s not your job to save her from what Zayn’s doing. It’s none of your business what he’s doing and it’s certainly not your right or responsibility to save anyone from anything.”

Harry usually grew defensive when Louis got on his case like this. Usually he’d try to shout out reasons why he should help, or the fact that he and Zayn were kind of friends now so it really _was_ his responsibility, but this time Harry didn’t. This time Louis was brasher, and Harry was at his wits end, so it all began to snowball downhill in a way that Louis hadn’t expected. With wet eyes, Harry looked up at Louis sadly and replied so simply, so softly, that Louis almost missed what had been said.

“I’d just hoped that maybe two people could love each other without all the bad stuff. I was wrong.”

Harry shrugged and left his half-empty cup of tea on the counter before retreating to his little curtain partition for some privacy as he curled back up in bed. The apartment was drafty; Harry had a particularly terrible breeze through a crack next to his window that had progressively gotten worse over the months, and on that windy December day in London it was nearly unbearable. He tugged the blankets up over himself and tried not to get upset. Harry was just a romantic at heart, and it seemed like every romantic thought or notion when it came to Zayn had been set into flames, burned to the ground and then burned again with each new piece of information.

Louis sighed and followed Harry at a distance. One step behind the little curtain told him how cold it was in Harry’s bunk, and he made a mental note to force someone to fix it soon. In that moment he just climbed onto the bed and snuggled up with Harry, arms around him even though Harry was the larger out of the two of them. “Hazza, love is shit. And I know you want a love like Liam and Dani have got, but maybe it’s just not in the cards for all of us,” Louis spoke softly, hoping to be of some comfort while still pulling Harry out of the romantic clouds his head always seemed to linger within. “Sometimes though, you just have to let people make their own mistakes and just hope they learn from them.”

There was a long pause, and for a moment Louis wondered whether Harry had decided to give him the cold shoulder and stop talking to him. But then came Harry’s voice, timidly, from beneath the piles of blankets and cozy clothes, “You aren’t.”

Confused, Louis leaned back and forced Harry to look at him. Coldness dripped from Louis’s voice as he asked, “And to what mistake are you referring?”

Harry sat up, emotional and upset, and decided that it was time to give Louis a taste of his own medicine, so to speak. “Eleanor,” he said simply. “You don’t love her. You don’t even like her. I don’t think you ever have.”

Louis was speechless. He stared at Harry in shock as he sat up to face him. Since when had Harry gotten so bold? Louis didn’t quite know what to say, especially since Harry sounded so offhanded, so casual, he could have very well been talking about the weather. “Harry, Eleanor is great, she…” Louis began, the confidence slowly falling out of his voice.

“No,” Harry shook his head as he spoke, his tone still as simple and factual as could be. “You don’t love her and you don’t care about her. I can tell. You don’t like holding her hand, and sometimes you won’t even look at her. You can’t be intimate with her properly because she doesn’t turn you on, and most of the time you two don’t even speak. I don’t know why she’s stayed with you for this long.”

Louis listened to Harry, but each word that fell from Harry’s plush, red lips just boiled Louis’s blood more and more until he replied in such an angry manner, Harry actually flinched and leaned away from Louis: “I thought I told you to let people make their own _fucking_ mistakes.”

Harry climbed off of the bed. He wasn’t fond of anger or confrontation, and being around Louis when he was as angry as he was becoming happened to be one of the most terrifying things Harry had ever witnessed. With a shrug, Harry made to walk out of his little curtained room, but Louis followed after him. “You’re being a right dick, you know!” Louis shouted after Harry.

Harry spun around and shouted right back, even if his voice held far less confidence than Louis’s, “I’m tired of watching you with her! You’re both miserable so why not just call it off!?”

“Because I don’t want to be alone!” Louis had snapped, his anger breaking his filter, letting all of his innermost feelings start tumbling from his lips. “I was going to break up with her, you know. At the end of summer when she went back to Uni. But then you went and met Zayn and I didn’t want to be the only pathetic, lonely one.” Harry flinched, because in comparison, in that moment _he_ was the only “pathetic, lonely one” now. He frowned and crossed his arms over his chest, almost as though to protect himself from more of Louis’s words, as Louis continued, “When you met Zayn, I thought you had a massive chance with him and I didn’t want to be alone so I stayed with her. Liam’s always going to have Danielle and I was _sure_ that you were going to end up always having Zayn. It’s not as though he didn’t look at you like a sickening, lovesick puppy as well.”

“But now I haven’t got a chance with him,” Harry said simply, his voice timid and fearful. “You’ve got no reason to be with Eleanor. And you shouldn’t have stayed with her in the first place, even if it was just so you wouldn’t feel left out. It’s not right.”

“Dammit, Harry, just stop it!” Louis shouted angrily. Harry retracted even more, tired of fighting and being shouted at. It seemed to be all he and Louis did anymore, and he despised it. “Why can’t you just be like the rest of us? Stop being so perfect! Stop trying to save everyone!” Harry didn’t speak. He hated being shouted at, and he blinked at his eyes as they grew wetter. He’d never heard Louis shout like this before in all the years that he’d known him, especially not with every word directed right at him. “You’re just so fucking frustrating sometimes!” Louis screamed.

Harry just stood there in shock of what he’d just heard. Devastated, Harry blinked as a tear drifted down his cheek. “I’m sorry,” Harry sighed. “I’m sorry for caring, I guess. I’ll stop.”

“Harry, that’s not what I-,” Louis began.

“It’s fine.”

Harry looked up at Louis, his eyes brimming with so much sadness Louis could feel the pangs in his chest. He could tell he’d hurt Harry a lot, but now he didn’t know how to fix it. “I get it,” Harry sighed, his lower lip trembling but no tears falling yet. “I… I’ll stop.”

He retreated to his room to tug on some sweatpants and slide on his shoes, and then he walked right towards the door. “I… I’ll go help Liam or something. I’ll leave you alone,” Harry explained softly as he looked around for his jacket.

When Harry spotted his jacket, he headed right towards it but Louis stopped him. “Harry, listen to me,” Louis pleaded.

“I did,” Harry replied simply.

“Harry,” Louis tried again.

Harry paused but didn’t turn to look at Louis. He didn’t want to see the look in his eye. Louis stepped closer to Harry and tried to look him in the eye, but Harry refused to make eye contact. With a sigh, Louis realized that he shouldn’t be surprised at that. But he had to do this. He had to tell Harry the truth. Harry deserved to know everything that had _really_ been going through Louis’s mind for months.

Slowly, Louis cupped Harry’s cheek with one hand and in one swift move, leaned upwards on his tiptoes to press their lips together. The kiss was chaste and only lasted a few seconds, but Louis felt satisfied that maybe it was enough to explain it all to Harry. But instead of having a reaction like Louis hoped for, Harry just stared at him with wide eyes for a moment. Desperate to explain, Louis took a deep breath and began, “Harry, I…”

“I have to go.”

With that, Harry grabbed his jacket and rushed out the door, shocked and confused.

*

It was different for everyone to go about their days after that. Poor Liam was constantly a mediator when everyone was home, or the customers at One Direction Café could sense the argumentation and conflict between Harry and Louis. Simon had even taken both Louis and Harry aside to yell at them – something he hadn’t done in the entire length of time that they’d known him – and told them to sort it out and move on, whatever the problem seemed to be.

The absolute worst part for Harry was when he went to work only to find that Zayn was skipping his usual coffee stop for the day, leaving Harry to nothing but his thoughts for hours. Harry had been thinking a lot about the kiss with Louis; what it meant, what he’d tried to signify through the gesture, and how to move forward and tell Louis that _he kind of really liked kissing him._ As in, Harry enjoyed the feeling of Louis’s lips on his more than he enjoyed the feeling of sitting in front of Zayn, chatting and smiling about nothing and everything.

Determined to tell Louis that _he gets it now_ , and that _he’s not mad_ , Harry grabs his things at the end of his shift, bids Liam goodbye, and then makes his way to their little flat. When he returned home after his shift to hear a sound he hadn’t ever expected to hear, Harry’s stomach sank and he felt like he was going to be sick. Squeaks and thuds came from behind Louis’s red and black plaid curtain. _He was fucking Eleanor_.

Emotion bubbled up within Harry and he felt tears spring to his eyes at full force. _Don’t cry_ he kept telling himself in his mind, but nothing helped. He broke down right then and there, the door closing with a hard slam.

“Harry!” Louis’s familiar voice called out, but Harry didn’t stop. He couldn’t, and he wouldn’t. Eleanor dragged Louis back inside the flat before he could decide to chase after Harry.

Harry walked through town, down the streets and through the cobblestone sidewalks of campus, and before he knew it he was in front of a building that looked curiously like the one atop some of Zayn’s more official looking Uni paperwork. He glanced at a sign to his right to see that the English building was just one street over. _Zayn_ , Harry realized. His brain had brought him direction to Zayn. Summoning all of his courage, Harry followed the directions on the map all the way to the English building.

There was something inherently _dangerous_ about showing up at Zayn’s office instead of waiting for him to come by the coffee shop. Chances were quite high that Zayn wouldn’t be in his office at all, but that didn’t occur to Harry. Inside the building was the directory; office 1D was Zayn’s, just down the hallway to the right. Harry walked and walked, desperate for some sort of companionship, maybe some advice. When he stood in the doorway and Zayn looked up at him in confusion, Harry suddenly lost all thought processes.

Now that he was there, he didn’t know what to say or do. Harry didn’t know what he’d gotten himself into.

The office was strangely impersonal compared to the other ones he’d passed. Theirs held photos, diplomas, and other school memorabilia. Zayn’s just held his diplomas in cold silver frames above his desk. Across his desk there were tons of papers strewn about in varying degrees of completion. Zayn looked frazzled and confused, and he stammered, “H-Harry? What are you doing here?”

Zayn stood up to move some papers, emptying a space on the lone chair against the wall next to his desk. Harry knew it was an invitation to sit down, but instead he just broke down crying, burying his face onto Zayn’s chest, arms around his waist as he sought out comfort in someone.

It wasn’t until that moment when Zayn really saw how glaringly different he and Harry were. Harry was just a kid; eighteen years to Zayn’s twenty-eight. There were so many things wrong with Harry’s crush on him. Zayn had become aware of the crush a while back, but he hadn’t wanted to show it or voice it for fear of scaring Harry away. Zayn knew Harry needed encouragement, someone other than the two people he’d grown to rely on; he knew that Harry needed a friend. Truth be told, that’s just what Zayn needed, as well.

He patted Harry’s back as the teen sobbed into his sweater vest, and when Harry’s tears began to subside, Zayn took a deep breath. He glanced at the clock – he still had about an hour before he had to pick up Alex from nursery school and her counseling appointment – so he said, “Let me drive you home.”

Harry wiped at his eyes and nose with the sleeve of his ragged jacket and said pitifully, “I couldn’t. You look busy.”

“Please, I insist. This stuff can wait until tomorrow,” Zayn said kindly, already busying himself with pulling on his jacket.

Harry nodded solemnly and felt like such a child as Zayn led him out of his _place of work_ to bring him home. It felt so suddenly like their age difference made all the difference in the world, and Harry felt foolish for ever having had those feelings towards Zayn of romanticism and love. Zayn was a wonderful guy, handsome as hell, but he just wasn’t someone that Harry should view as a viable option for dating. He had no right, in any case. Zayn had a family and a lover and there was no room for Harry in that equation. It was inappropriate for him to even show up at Zayn’s office.

Zayn led Harry out to his car, parked at the end of the employee lot outside his office building. It was an average car; something very safe, presumably since Zayn had a family, and it was dark which was fitting for Zayn’s physique and personality. The black car needed a wash but was comfortable anyway. Harry took a seat on the passenger’s side and Zayn sat down quietly. He knew the general direction in which he needed to drive; Harry had divulged to him earlier that he lived only a street away of the One Direction Café.

They were no more than a few blocks away from campus where they’d begun when Zayn’s phone began ringing. Zayn glanced at the caller ID to see who it was and what they wanted, and alarm filled him as he saw that it was Niall calling from school. Zayn answered the phone in a frenzy, all thoughts of Harry gone from his mind. “Niall?” he asked curiously.

Harry looked over in surprise. Was that the man’s name, Zayn’s lover? Quietly, Harry gazed out the window to give Zayn as much privacy as he could in a car, but his ears were on high alert as he listened to the phone call. Zayn nodded and sounded frantic when he said, “Of course. I’ll be right there.” Zayn hung up and Harry glanced over in confusion. “We need to detour. I’m sorry, Harry.”

“It’s fine,” Harry insisted.

Truth be told, he didn’t want to go home. Not yet. Going home meant seeing Louis and facing him after hearing him do what Harry had thought would have been the impossible: have sex with Eleanor. The thought sent a wave of disgust through Harry’s body and he sat in silence, patiently, as Zayn drove them in a different direction. When they parked, Harry looked out to see a sign: _Handprints Nursery_. He was confused – what on earth were they doing at a nursery school?

Zayn didn’t say a word as he climbed out of the car, and Harry couldn’t figure out if he was supposed to stay or go with. Awkwardly he clambered out of the car to follow, his curiosity getting the better of him. Zayn seemed panicked as he rushed inside, and Harry followed, probably looking like a little lost puppy on the coattails of his owner, the person he doted upon and fawned over for months.

Once inside, Harry stared when he saw Zayn rush into a classroom down the hallway. He stood in the doorway, shocked, as a little girl with hair the same color as Zayn’s and immaculate bone structure similar to his as well, stood in the center of the room and screamed, “NO daddy! I want MUMMY!”

Her voice was hoarse and tears spilled down her cheeks in big pitiful waves, and she was standing alone while holding a little doll as she threw a fit. She was beautiful even when she cried, but Harry didn’t understand. “Alex, darling, come here,” Zayn said calmly as he knelt down in front of her.

Harry’s eyes widened. _Alex_. The pieces began to click into place as the gears turned in Harry’s head. _I’m all she’s got left_ , Zayn had said once. That means that her mum… “Were you a friend of Perrie’s?” a blonde man with a strong Irish accent asked as he approached the doorway.

Surprised at the question, Harry looked up at the man in confusion. “I’m Alex’s teacher, Niall Horan,” he said, offering his hand to shake.

“I erm… I’m Harry Styles,” Harry said lamely, feeling suddenly awkward and incredibly intrusive.

“And how do you know Mr. Malik?” Niall asked kindly; he was probably just doing his job, trying to figure out who this strange person was in his classroom with a parent.

“We’re friends,” Harry spoke softly.

He stared out at Zayn as he desperately tried to calm his daughter. The thought felt strange in Harry’s head – _Zayn has a daughter_. It had been the furthest thing from his mind. But that must mean that this man was the guy on the phone, and Zayn wasn’t cheating. He was… “Who’s Perrie?” Harry blurted out.

Niall looked incredibly confused as this apparent friend of Zayn’s didn’t know who Perrie was. That was a big red flag, and Niall had to keep his student’s privacy. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Niall said firmly as he began to escort Harry out of the room.

“No wait, I-,” Harry protested.

But Niall had already ushered Harry out of the room and closed the door. Inside, Harry could still hear the gut-wrenching sobs coming from little Alex’s mouth. “I want mummy!” she pleaded.

“Sweetheart, mummy isn’t here,” Zayn told her camly, though he looked near tears herself.

“That’s what lady say. That’s what Ms. Jesy say too and MUMMY NOT GONE!” Alex cried out sadly.

As Harry listened through the door, he began to make sense of everything. The wedding ring, but nobody else in their lives, seemingly, Zayn being all that Alex had left. When he’d asked what Zayn’s wife said, he’d replied in a short and curt voice that she just didn’t. Harry couldn’t believe it, the way the story was far too tragic to be anything in real life. Harry didn’t want to let himself believe the way the pieces were falling together, this new way that everything was beginning to click in his head. It was too sad, too terrible.

Saddened once again by the events of that day, Harry spun on his heel and left the school. It wasn’t a far walk home; it would take at least an hour but Harry had time to kill. He couldn’t intrude upon Zayn’s life any more than he already had. It wouldn’t be fair and it wouldn’t be right.

When Harry finally arrived home, he ignored Louis and hoped that Louis didn’t notice how red and puffy Harry’s eyes had become. Silent tears fell as he thought about everything he’d dealt with, about everything it seemed as though Zayn had to deal with, and he found himself wondering if love was actually a real thing, if two people could have a forever without it being interrupted by fate’s decision that someone didn’t deserve to be happy after all.

Harry sobbed into his pillow late into the night until Liam stepped behind the curtain. “Hazza, come on,” he said softly. “Come with me.”

The partition behind Harry’s curtain was unforgivingly cold, sending a chill down his spine and causing him to shiver beneath all the blankets he’d scrounged up to pile pitifully on his bed. Harry sniffled when Liam sat on the edge and tried to convince him to move away from the window, out of bed, and to wherever he felt like taking him. Too emotionally drained to argue with anyone, Harry just nodded and let Liam walk with him out to the sofa where Louis sat waiting, looking extremely distraught.

“Harry…” Louis began softly.

Harry just shook his head and said, “Wasn’ you. Not… not totally.”

Louis looked saddened and patted the spot next to him on the sofa. It was tiny, but the three of them could still fit if they wanted to be warm and cozy, which they did on that particular night. Both Liam and Louis wrapped Harry up in their arms in the center of the sofa, and Liam asked, “What happened?”

They both knew that Harry was extremely sensitive; Harry always had been, really. Whatever he was about to say wasn’t likely to affect them the way it did Harry. It was part of the beauty of their friendship;  they could help Harry through something like this. So, Harry began to explain. He told them about Zayn, about who Alex really was, about what role the “lover,” Niall, played in everything, and last of all, about Perrie. “He was married,” Harry told them sadly. “Sh-she died. I don’t know how and I don’t know when, all I can figure out is that she died.”

“But you know this for a fact?” Louis asked, hoping to clarify.

Liam had long since abandoned holding Harry; he knew Louis had to be the one to do it. He’d seen the wayward glances, the odd touches, the way everyone in the world could see that Louis and Harry were meant for each other except for the two of them. Liam was seated away from them, letting Harry rely entirely on Louis for warmth and comfort. Harry could hear the thrum of Louis’s heart beat and it steadied his breathing. He could feel the way Louis’s hand dragged gently up and down his back, and it kept Harry grounded and focused. Liam saw them feeding off of each other, one giving the other what he needed, and he knew that this was good. He knew he was right in making the three of them sit together like they were on such a cold night.

“I mean… he still wears the ring, but the girl kept asking for her mummy and everyone kept telling her that her mum was gone but she didn’t believe them,” Harry sobbed, the memories flooding back of the heartbreak in such a young girl’s eyes. “I think… I think she’s grieving. And Zayn has been too – that’s what I could see in his eyes. And… and then… the guy, the blonde one, Niall?” Louis nodded, his chin bumping the top of Harry’s head gently to tell him he was there and listening actively. “Well… he asked me if I _had been_ a friend of Perrie’s. Like, past tense. And… it would explain why Zayn’s always so stressed, and why he said he’s all the little girl has left.”

Harry wiped at his eyes and both Liam and Louis looked incredibly saddened. “Harry, I know it hurts, but…” Louis began.

“It _does_ hurt! And it’s horrible because someone as amazing as Zayn doesn’t deserve heartbreak like that! Nobody does!” Harry wailed. The sensitivity seemed magnified, drawn out and louder than usual, consuming Harry entirely. Louis held Harry just a little bit closer and Harry broke, his voice cracking to near silence as he said, “Why is it all so unfair? Why can’t love _actually_ exist?”

Harry had always been the hopeless romantic of the group. He wished one day he could be lucky enough to find someone that would genuinely love him, inside and out, just like Liam and Danielle. He wished only happiness and that sort of earth shattering, head-over-heels impact of adoration upon every single person he met. Harry was a kind soul right through to his core, but every event in his life seemed to prove to him that love was rare, that in most cases it didn’t exist, and worst of all – that it would never happen to him.

Liam stood, but Harry didn’t even feel the weight shift off of the sofa because he was so wrapped up in his own sadness and emotions. He left the main area of the flat but to where, neither of the others really knew because Harry just sobbed into Louis’s chest and Louis just held Harry, summoning the courage he needed to continue the conversation. “Hazza… it _does_ exist,” Louis told him softly.

“For Liam and Danielle, yeah, but what about the rest of us?” Harry sobbed quietly.

Louis kissed the top of Harry’s head and whispered, “Well… what about you and me?”

Shocked, Harry looked up quickly, his eyes red and puffy and full of shock and surprise. “What about Eleanor?” he asked.

Harry wiped desperately at his eyes, willing them to keep the tears from falling anymore, but there were just so many bottled up, so much emotion to let out. Louis looked incredibly nervous as Harry shied away from him. It wasn’t how he had hoped the conversation would go, though he didn’t really have the right to be picky, all things considered. Louis picked at a hang nail and said softly, “I uh… I left her. Today after we heard you leave she asked me why I chased after you. So… I told her.”

“You told me you couldn’t even _get it up_ for her,” Harry nearly spat. This wasn’t really the time or place in which Harry had wanted to have the conversation, but he didn’t have much of a say in it.

“I couldn’t. I had to think about someone else,” Louis confessed. “I… I had to think about this guy that I know, right? And… it sounds really pervy but… his kiss is enough.” Louis looked up at Harry, hoping he understood just who it was that he was talking about. “If there’s one thing in the fucking world I don’t regret and will never regret, ever, it’s kissing you.” Louis kept his gaze locked on Harry, his eyes full of worry, of fear that maybe what he’d done to Harry was unforgivable. “I thought about loving you, how you’d be so much better than her. How you’d care and you’d hold me and you’d make me feel like I wasn’t just put on this planet to be alive. Like maybe having you love me would give me… ambition again. Would convince me that I’m worth more than this dingy old flat and the job we’ve all settled for.”

“Hey,” Harry said, a small smile dancing upon his lips as he nudged Louis. “I quite like our flat. It’s cozy.”

“It’s going to give us all hypothermia,” Louis replied flatly.

Harry just burst out laughing at how serious and protective Louis was all of a sudden, his problems temporarily forgotten. His expression grew serious when Louis placed a hand upon Harry’s, and he swallowed hard, watching every movement of Louis’s lips and face. He looked so earnest, so serious and hopeful and adorable all at once, and Harry took a deep breath because he knew what was coming. “Harry, will you please forgive me for hurting you?” Louis asked. “I’ve treated you like shit and made fun of you and let’s be honest, I should have handled this whole Zayn thing a lot better, as well.” Louis looked completely repentant and Harry had never heard him sound so genuine in his life. “I won’t even be upset or surprised if you shoot me down and never want to date me,” Louis continued, though Harry could tell that those words killed him to say. “I just want you to forgive me. Please. I’m so sorry.”

Louis held Harry’s hand gently, his clasped over Harry’s even if Harry’s was the larger hand. Harry let out a shaky breath and instead of answering, he just turned his hand, slotting his fingers between Louis’s, and he leaned in to place a small, delicate kiss right at the corner of Louis’s mouth. “Okay,” he whispered.

Harry leaned his head on Louis’s shoulders. Even though they knew they’d be sore the next morning, they curled up on the sofa just like that, Harry’s little bed nook too small and cold for the both of them, and Louis’s far too messy. And for the first time all day, Harry genuinely felt relaxed.

*

For Zayn, walking back into the One Direction Café on Monday was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. His nerves were shot and he’d been up most of the night trying to figure out just what to say to Harry. The man followed him all the way to the nursery school, watched Zayn’s daughter have a breakdown and Zayn nearly joined in, and then he’d been kicked out of the school by Niall. The guilt of Harry walking home in the frigid December wind had weighed on Zayn’s conscience all weekend.

When Zayn didn’t show up at his usual time, Harry was sure that Zayn wouldn’t get coffee there anymore, not after everything that Harry had seen. He still felt guilty for intruding upon Zayn’s life like that and he wouldn’t be surprised if he never saw the man again. But the bell above the door rang and Harry dutifully spun around, and he was met with the sight of not just Zayn, but his daughter as well.

Liam was just about to step in to take over so Harry could leave at the end of his shift, so Liam stood there as well. When Zayn approached, Harry waved Liam away from the register and said, “No. Let me.”

Zayn opened his mouth to protest but one look into Harry’s eyes told him not to say a word, not yet. Harry made Zayn a cappuccino, optimistically making it rather wet in hopes that Zayn felt better now that he didn’t have to hold in such a secret, and he carried it over to a table as Zayn followed. Zayn sat down and the little girl curled up on his lap. “I owe you a big explanation,” Zayn began nervously.

“You don’t,” Harry insisted. He shook his head and looked earnestly  up at Zayn. “I-I’m just your barista. I don’t need an explanation for anything. I just… I just make your coffee.”

Zayn looked almost saddened by that, and he sighed. “You and I both know we’re more than just a customer and a barista. We’re friends. But… Harry, that’s all we’re ever going to be,” Zayn explained slowly. He chose each word carefully, treading gently upon Harry’s emotions, hoping for no horrible consequences.

Harry nodded and bit his lip, and after a short pause, he said, “I know. I’m sorry.”

“No, I should have been more clear,” Zayn insisted.

Harry just sighed and looked down at his hands. Zayn took a sip of his coffee and he smiled a little. “You know,” he began softly. “I’ve never been able to figure out if the way you change my drink from day to day is creepy or amazing.” Confused, Harry glanced up at Zayn, whose smile grew as he said, “I think it’s amazing, I’ve decided.”

“You noticed?” Harry asked, his cheeks pink with embarrassment. He’d thought he was being subtle.

“Of course,” Zayn nodded. He adjusted Alex on his lap as he said, “You make them stronger when I’m stressed or upset, and they’re not as strong when I’m in a good mood… like today. Not as strong, and exactly what I need.”

Harry smiled a little and shrugged as he replied modestly, “It’s just… my job, I guess.”

“You do a lot more than your job. You’re great at reading people. You’re sure you’ve never considered Uni?” Zayn pressed.

“I’m sure,” Harry nodded, though his smile fell because sometimes he wished he could. But he knew his past and his grades were all working against him to keep him from ever moving further with his life. The café would be his life and he’d already come to terms with it.

Zayn frowned for a moment, but took another sip of his coffee and decided to change the subject. “I brought someone here to meet you today,” he explained. Zayn looked down at Alex, and Harry’s gaze followed. “This is my daughter, Alex. She’s four years old. Alex, can you say hello to my friend Harry?”

Alex’s stunning blue eyes gazed up at Harry as she said softly, “Hello Harry.”

She was precious, but looked so forlorn. Harry smiled at her kindly and replied, “Hello Alex. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Alex looked up at her father, as though asking whether it was okay to continue speaking to him, and Zayn smiled comfortingly and nodded in encouragement. “It nice to meet you too,” she told Harry, a finger moving to her mouth.

She chewed on her finger and Zayn gently eased it away as he said, “Good girl.”

“Juice?” she asked hopefully.

Zayn looked across the table at Harry, who spoke kindly to them both, “We’ve got apple juice. I can get her a cup.”

“Yes please,” Alex chimed in politely before Zayn could respond.

Both adults let out a laugh at that, and Harry walked behind the counter to pour a cup of apple juice for Alex. He put a lid on top and a pink straw inside, and then carried it over to the table. Before he even got to sit down he could hear Alex shouting, “Pink! Daddy, he got me pink!”

Zayn smiled and tried to quiet Alex, and Harry handed her the cup. “How you know I like pink?” she asked curiously.

“It was just a lucky guess, I suppose,” Harry replied.

Alex looked positively impressed, and he watched her sip at her juice for a moment before he turned to Zayn to say, “She’s beautiful.”

Zayn nodded. He took a deep breath and Harry could tell the heavy conversation was coming before it even began. Harry felt his heart ache for Zayn and Alex when Zayn told him, “She looks like her mum.”

Harry was quiet. He wanted desperately to ask what happened, where Zayn’s wife went, but it didn’t feel right. It still felt too intrusive and he knew that if Zayn wanted him to know, he’d tell him in his own good time. When Zayn opened his mouth to speak, Harry could sense that this was going to be difficult. “D’you want to go back to my flat? It’s just down the street and it’s more private,” Harry offered.

Zayn looked overwhelmed and happy, and he nodded. “I’d appreciate that.”

Harry knew that Zayn was going to try to explain everything, and while Zayn didn’t owe him an explanation, he chose to share such intimate details of his life with Harry anyway because they were friends and they could do that. Harry felt honored by it all. He grabbed his jacket and led Zayn and Alex to his dingy flat, suddenly hyperaware of how run-down and awful the place really was.

As soon as they stepped inside the one roomed flat, Zayn seemed a bit surprised. “I would have thought the café would pay better,” he commented softly.

He moved to take Alex’s jacket off, but Harry held out a hand, “No, she should probably keep it on. The heat… well, there’s a draft.” Harry’s cheeks were bright red as he closed the door behind them and addressed what Zayn had said earlier. “It does pay better. But we send money back to our families because they haven’t got much, either. It’s the least we can do, all things considered. See, Louis and I… our mums were walked out on. Louis’s my be-,” Harry paused, because ever since he’d known Louis he’d called him his best friend. But now they were more, and Harry took a breath before speaking the words aloud for the first time, “ _Boyfriend_.”

Zayn looked surprised, and Harry was sheepish as he confessed, “It’s very recent.”

“Congratulations,” Zayn said politely. “Louis, he’s the loud one at the café, yeah?”

Harry grinned at Zayn’s descriptor and nodded, “That’s the one.”

Zayn set Alex down with her jacket on, and Harry went to his room where he had books he’d recently found and hoped to give to Louis’s little sisters the next time they visited, if they could ever afford to visit again. Alex looked overjoyed at a new stack of books to read, and she sat down immediately to start looking through them. “Can she read yet?” Harry asked as he sat next to Zayn on the sofa.

“She’s trying,” Zayn explained, his sad eyes focused on his daughter where she sat on a pillow on the floor. “She wants to be just like me.”

“That’s wonderful,” Harry replied earnestly.

He watched Zayn closely, the way his eyebrows ticked as he searched for words, and the way his tongue would dart out to wet his lips just a little in a nervous sort of fashion. Harry supposed that Zayn didn’t open up about this part of his life to just anyone, or maybe he hadn’t talked about it with anyone at all. Harry gave Zayn all the time in the world, until finally he heard Zayn’s broken voice begin to explain.

“Her mum’s name was Perrie,” Zayn began. “She… she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever met. My whole life I’d told myself that I was never going to settle down, and look what she got me to do. I’ve never regretted it, either. It started with her tricking me into dinner by saying she needed me to model for a photography assignment, and before I knew it I was down at the jewelry store buying her a tiny diamond that I couldn’t actually afford because I wanted to make her mine. She was a photographer, you know. Really brilliant. Even after she died there was a gallery on campus that kept her best portfolio in it… six whole months of remembrance and then they took it down. I used to go to that gallery every single day. I think part of me hoped it would bring her back, that she’d just walk into the room with another photo to add to the walls and that’d be it. The nightmare would be over.”

Zayn’s eyes were wet and full of emotion, and his hands wrung on his lap. Alex read the books like any child might, pointing at the pictures and making up her own tale based off of them. Zayn glanced over at Harry, whose sympathetic expression helped put him at ease a little. “We got married on our one-year anniversary. I just… I knew she was the one. I didn’t need years of time to figure it out like some people do. We dated, got engaged, planned a small little wedding, and got married all in one year,” Zayn stated proudly. “I’d just finished my masters work and Perrie was finishing her undergrad. She worked in retail and did some freelance photography while I worked on my doctorate, and nine months after we got married, we had Alex.”

“She’s so beautiful, Zayn,” Harry commented softly.

Zayn sniffled, the emotion beginning to bubble to the surface, unshed tears waiting dutifully to fall, to show the world just how pained Zayn was about the events of his life in the past few years. Zayn nodded and looked over at her adoringly. “She looks so much like her mum. Her full name is Alexandra and… Perrie picked the name. I was against it at first because I thought she needed a name that was more exciting, but… one look at her and I just knew it was right. It gives us another little piece of her mum, too, knowing that she chose the name. Perrie worked part time while I finished my doctorate and worked as an adjunct professor, teaching whatever nobody else wanted to teach essentially. She took care of Alex and sometimes her mum would help too, but we were okay. We scraped by. Perrie always loved bargain shopping anyway. Our flat looked filled with designer stuff because she could take a cheap vase and turn it into a masterpiece or something. She was brilliant, Harry. She kind of… she put the excitement back in my life.”

Harry smiled and rubbed Zayn’s back as he watched a few tears dart down Zayn’s cheekbones and into the scruff that had grown on his face in the hubbub of finals season at Uni. He rubbed at his face haphazardly before he continued, “When Alex was about a year old, we started talking about having another kid. It would be hard, financially, but we wanted a family. So, we decided to just… go for it. We would make it work. When Perrie started showing signs, we were ecstatic, you know? We wanted Alex to be a big sister and for her to have a sibling to look out for. But when Perrie went in to the doctor, she…” Zayn choked on his words there and Harry rubbed his back again until he realized that Zayn needed some time to muddle through the emotions.

He stood and started a tea kettle and pulled out two mismatched mugs. He let Zayn have his moment while he prepared the tea, and Alex didn’t even look up from the book she was so immersed in. Moments passed and Harry just let them; Zayn’s emotions were raw already, he could tell. It was a sad story, but Harry fought his own urge to cry because this was Zayn’s moment, and Zayn was getting it all out, and Harry just needed to be the loyal and strong friend to listen and comfort. Harry was often adaptable that way. “Th-thanks,” Zayn said, his voice trembling slightly as he sipped at the tea.

“No problem,” Harry insisted, keeping his expression calm in hopes of calming Zayn.

Their tea was almost entirely gone by the time Zayn continued. Instead of saying it outright, he just said, “It’s… cancer symptoms are sometimes like pregnancy symptoms. It broke her heart. She’d gotten her hopes up that she was pregnant just to find out she had cancer. How cruel can the world be to do to that to a person?” Zayn sighed and shook his head as he wiped at his face again.

Harry didn’t have a single word to say, but he didn’t need to speak for Zayn to know how he felt. Harry was there, he was listening, and he was comforting. Some people had the horrid habit of turning a conversation about one person around onto themselves instead, and Harry wasn’t fond of that sort of person. He left the floor open for Zayn, so he could say whatever he needed to in order to feel better, and it seemed to be working.

“And you know,” Zayn continued. “It was only made worse when she got her dream job offer after she was diagnosed. It was like a slap in the face. She was devastated. All she wanted was to run her own gallery, to show her artwork and give new artists a chance, and she got it, but she knew it’d be short-lived. She could work there longer into her treatment than she could work in retail because she could just sit all day and it wouldn’t wear her out, but… between work and raising Alex and all the chemo… she got weak. She barely made it to my commencement when I finished my doctoral work. She was so devastated, but she never let it show to anyone else. When her hair was gone, she wore flashy hats that drew attention to her lack of hair, and she liked wearing dresses and fancy things even if she drowned in them because she was so sickly. Perrie… she sucked in every ounce of life she could until there was no more. She smiled right up until her very last b-breath…”

Zayn broke down for real this time, burying his face in his hands as he rested his elbows upon his knees. Harry thought it was tragic but beautiful, the way that even in the midst of such a sad story, Zayn could weave words to make Perrie sound so positively ethereal. He could picture her, this goddess-like woman, yet natural and real all at the same time, and he was overwhelmed by the thought of losing someone like that. It was devastating just to think about. Harry rubbed Zayn’s back comfortingly and Alex rushed over, alarmed. “Daddy? Daddy you okay?” she asked sadly.

Zayn couldn’t hear her over his sobs, but she allowed Harry to pick her up and hold her in his lap. As Harry learned, Alex was quite a perceptive little girl. She looked up at Harry and said, “Daddy cry lots when he talks about mummy. It’s okay. He just has lots of love and misses her lots.”

Harry wanted to cry right there with Zayn, but he held back. He was at a loss; he’d never held a sad little girl, or watched her father fall apart in front of her. When the door opened, Zayn kept his face buried but his sobs abruptly stopped. Louis wandered just over the threshold but then froze at the sight. “I uh… I can come back later?” he asked, directing his confusion towards Harry.

“It’s fine,” Zayn spoke, his voice muffled. “I can… Alex and I, we can… we can go.”

“No, not in this state,” Harry insisted. “Louis is great. I want you to meet him.”

Harry hoped that maybe a temporary change of subject might help. Or maybe Zayn would never return to the topic now, Harry wasn’t quite sure. Reluctantly, Louis wandered in and knelt in front of the sofa. He gave Zayn a comforting pat on the shoulder and then turned his attention towards Alex, who was sitting comfortably on Harry’s lap. “And who is this beautiful little girl?” he asked, smiling at Alex.

She smiled politely and said, “Me Alex Malik. You?”

Louis grinned and said, “I’m Louis Tomlinson. My sisters call me Louis and my friends call me Tommo.”

“Tommo?” she asked.

“You can call me Tommo if you want to!” he smiled at her, and Alex smiled back. She seemed to trust him just as much as she trusted Harry. But Louis held up a finger and said, “But, if you call me Tommo, you have to be my friend. Can you do that? Will you be my friend, Alex Malik?”

“Yes!” she said happily, clapping her hands.

“Yay!” Louis shouted, thrusting both arms up into the air in triumph. “I have a new friend!”

Alex began to giggle, and the giggles only began to multiply when Louis picked her up and started dancing around with her. They wandered to the other side of the rather small flat, giving Harry and Zayn some alone time again. “He’s great with kids,” Zayn commented.

“As he should be,” Harry replied softly. “He’s a great guy, and aside from that he’s got four younger sisters and his mum’s having twins soon, as well.”

“Wow,” Zayn said with amazement. He didn’t think he could handle raising more than just Alex now, not on his own, but part of him still wished for more children. “Sorry I broke down like that, it’s just that I… I don’t tell many people about this.”

“It’s alright, I understand,” Harry insisted kindly. He rubbed Zayn’s back again and asked, “Can I get you more tea?”

Zayn noded and handed his cup to Harry, “Please.”

Harry busied himself with making two more mugs of tea, and then he sat down next to Zayn, who seemed to have composed himself enough to move forward with the conversation again. “When Perrie passed away, she was twenty-six. Alex was three. She didn’t understand at first, and she’s thought that her mum was just… on vacation. Her teacher, whom you’ve met… he recently suggested she start seeing a grief counselor. It’s been good for her so far, but sometimes, as you saw last week… it’s too much for her. It breaks my heart when she asks me when mummy is coming home, because I know she’s not and I try to explain to her that she’s not, but Alex is just… in denial. It’s so hard.”

“Her teacher seems really great for her,” Harry commented.

“He is,” Zayn replied immediately. He could never speak highly enough of Mr. Horan. “He’s done so much for both Alex and myself. He’s gotten Alex the help she needs to move forward, but he helps me as well. I’m awful with time, and I’m so late to pick her up sometimes, but he plays with her and takes care of her while I get my ass over there. I always apologize but he just says he doesn’t mind. He says he doesn’t really have anyone to go home to, so his schedule isn’t messed up when I lose track of time while marking assignments or something. I don’t know what I’ll do next year without him.”

Harry bit his lip. He could hear the beginnings of something much more than their working relationship, but it didn’t seem appropriate to bring it up bluntly. Instead, Harry chose a more polite, roundabout way to mention it. The last thing Zayn needed was to worry about dating or rushing into a relationship, but he at least deserved to know that maybe his time wasn’t up, that maybe one day he’d fall in love again. “I’m glad you have him in your life,” Harry insisted. “You need someone there to help you two. If I weren’t such a workaholic I’d offer to help as well, you know that. Anything you need, just call the shop. I haven’t got my own phone but someone at the café will know how to reach me.”

Zayn looked up gratefully at Harry. “You know, for a kid, you sure do act grown up,” Zayn commented.

Harry took that as a compliment, and he smiled. Zayn smiled a little as well, and Harry felt like maybe everything was okay, that maybe Zayn could make it through this rough patch of his life and that Harry wouldn’t lose him as a friend. “I should be going,” Zayn said softly. “Alex will freak out if her dinner isn’t right at six pm. She’s quite scheduled like that.”

Harry laughed and watched Zayn walk over towards Louis. He introduced himself and then took Alex into his arms, coaxing her with a bribe of a nice pudding cup after dinner for a dessert. Alex smiled and waved goodbye to her new friend Tommo, and then said goodbye to Harry as well. Harry followed them to the door and smiled kindly at Zayn. “Don’t stop coming by the café, alright? And bring her with sometimes, would you? We love seeing you guys,” Harry told Zayn.

Zayn nodded, and Alex cheered happily at the thought of seeing “her Tommo” again. “Thanks for listening,” Zayn said softly.

Harry nodded and said, “I’m always here to listen, alright? Even if I’m just a kid.” He snickered at that which brought a chuckle out of Zayn’s lips, and as Zayn walked away, Harry said, “I wish all the best for you and Niall. Don’t lose him when Alex is done in his class.”

Confused, Zayn turned to look at Harry, but all he saw was a closed door. He shook his head at Harry’s antics and a small smile played on his lips as he walked out of the building with Alex on his hip, snuggled into his chest.

*

Trying to get back into the swing of things after the big upset and Zayn’s explanation to Harry was surprisingly easy. Zayn kept coming back to the café, only this time he had Harry or Liam or Louis there to remind him to go fetch Alex when it was time. He’d always thank them and leave a generous tip in the tip jar on the counter, and then rush away before he would be late. Now that the friendship had been set in stone, Harry felt better. “He’s nearly eleven years your senior,” Louis pointed out one evening. “I had no idea he was _that_ old. I never would have told you to pursue him.”

Harry fixed Louis with a look that said _you gave me shit, you didn’t encourage me to pursue him_ , mixed with a little annoyance, but then replied with a cheeky grin, “You just want me all to yourself.”

“That’s the plan, yeah,” he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he glowed with happiness.

Now that it was just mere days before Christmas and Louis’s birthday, their flat was incredibly cold. More often than not, Harry and Louis would curl up on the sofa in every piece of clothing they owned while Liam stayed over with his girlfriend Danielle, whose flat was much warmer and more comfortable. It didn’t stop them from getting sick, though, and on December 23rd, Harry was slouched behind the counter with Louis, stuck on till duty because with such a cold, he wasn’t allowed to touch the food or drinks.

Zayn was instantly worried, because it wasn’t difficult to know the reason why Harry was so sick when he was living in such a dingy, cold flat. “Y’alright?” he asked with concern.

Course work had finished until after holidays so he wasn’t stressed out, but he still liked to visit just to see his friends. They helped remind him that there was a lot more to life than mourning, like making friends and moving on. Ever since nursery school had ended for the holidays, he’d also begun bringing Alex round to see them, and even Niall a couple of times. “’s just a cold,” Harry replied miserably. “’m fine.”

Zayn looked skeptical and sighed, “Look, I saw the sign that says the café is closed tomorrow and the day after for holidays. Why don’t you two stay with me? Harry can get well and we can give Alex a proper Christmas.”

“You’re not going to see your family?” Harry asked suddenly.

Zayn shook his head sadly and said, “Trains are full. Sold out of tickets. Couldn’t get to them fast enough to visit, and they can’t come out this way, either.”

Harry looked so saddened and even though he wouldn’t have the money to purchase any gifts, he really wanted to spend Christmas with Zayn and Alex, just so they’d have some people there for them and be able to have a nice big Christmas celebration. “We’ll be there,” Louis answered for both of them, and Harry just nodded.

“Great,” Zayn grinned.

Louis handed Zayn his usual cappuccino, and then instead of her usual cold cup of apple juice, Zayn handed Alex a warm cup and he told her, “This will help keep you warm. Apple juice is just as yummy when it’s warm. Do you want to try it?”

“Like daddy’s?” she asked curiously; the cup looked exactly like Zayn’s. “Coffee icky.”

“It’s juice!” Louis said, and he pulled the top off of it to reveal the same juice she usually drank. “I just made it a bit warmer for you. It’ll feel nice since you’re cold.”

“Yummy?” Alex questioned, her eyebrow showing to everyone that she was quite skeptical.

“Yes it is! Will you try it for me, beautiful? If you don’t like it, I promise I’ll get you cold apple juice with a pink straw,” Louis smiled.

Zayn let Alex sit on the counter since they were the only customers at that time, and she took the cup and gave it one more skeptical eyebrow-raise before she tipped it to her lips. When she lowered it she smiled at Louis and said, “Tommo make yummy juice!”

Louis grinned widely and let out a holler of excitement. “She likes it! Yes!” he shouted in an exaggerated tone, and he held out his hand so Alex could give him a high five.

“Me grown up girl?” she asked.

Zayn smiled and kissed her forehead, right where her sparkly pink hat ended, and he said, “Yes. You’re a very grown-up girl.”

Alex positively glowed with happiness and Zayn looked to Harry and Louis both. “I have to get going, I have final marks to submit,” he explained. “I’ll come round and pick you two up around ten o’clock tomorrow?”

Louis nodded and Harry smiled and waved as the two exited the shop. He was so glad to have plans with someone for Christmas, because he missed it a lot sometimes, being with family. But he’d come to London to try to make a life for himself, and this was what it would take. The only question was how to move up in the world. He couldn’t survive off of working at the café; he could feel it in his bones. More than that, he knew they needed to move. There was no way he’d get better living in some cold, drafty flat with a landlord that wouldn’t fix anything for them.

Louis insisted that he could close that night on his own, so Harry went upstairs and curled up under his blankets on the sofa, waiting for Louis to come home and provide even more warmth for him. Louis prepared him a bowl of microwavable soup and fed it to Harry, who looked absolutely miserable. Their teeth chattered from the cold all night, even as they wore nearly everything they owned under nearly every blanket. Harry passed out right away, but Louis watched him most of the night with worry that maybe this life they’d been given would kill them before they really even got to live.

In the morning, they heard honking outside that woke them. “ _Shit_ ,” Louis hissed. He stood up quickly and Harry looked around in confusion. “Zayn’s here, we’ve got to go,” Louis told Harry quickly.

Harry looked groggy and just stood up to wander to the door like a zombie. Saddened, Louis followed. Their alarm hadn’t gone off because the electricity had been shut off. The company had told Louis that they had until the first of January to pay the remainder of last month’s bill before they shut anything off; they’d lied, apparently. Harry had no idea that they weren’t making bills the way they used to; Louis hadn’t had the heart to tell him.

They wandered downstairs and Zayn looked concerned as he spotted how dismal the two looked. Louis helped Harry into the front seat and then sat in the back himself next to Alex. She smiled and waved, and Louis could tell that there were lots of questions at the tip of Zayn’s tongue. He kept them to himself for now, though, and for that Louis was grateful.

The drive to Zayn’s house was silent, save for Alex’s singing. She liked to sing even when there was no music, and it was evident that she was quite the talented musician. “Just like her mum,” Zayn commented after Louis pointed out Alex’s abilities.

Louis smiled fondly to Zayn at his statement, and Harry’s eyes drooped closed. When they arrived at Zayn’s house, Louis helped Harry stumble inside, and Zayn turned on the lights and took everyone’s jackets and then ushered Harry into the main floor guest room. They had a second floor to their small home where there were three more rooms; each was small but the home held more living space than one would imagine from the outside. Zayn rested his hand on Harry’s forehead and frowned. Alex stood in the doorway with her brow furrowed in worry and she asked, “Harry okay?”

“Of course, Alex,” Zayn told her with a worried smile. “Can you do daddy a favor and go get the doctor kit?”

Dutifully, Alex nodded and rushed across the hall to the loo where she grabbed a small white first aid kit that held all their basic needs, including a thermometer. Zayn coaxed it under Harry’s tongue and Harry just lay there, buried in every piece of clothing he owned plus the duvet and sheet from the guest bed, and he still shivered. Zayn kept an eye on the time and Alex watched patiently. Louis appeared in the doorway moments after, and it was obvious that he was worried, as well. Time dragged by like the minute hand was stuck in molasses, until finally Zayn reached out for the thermometer. “Thirty-nine degrees,” he read, his voice defeated and low.

Louis bit back a curse word and Alex stepped forward, worried. “Daddy, Harry okay?” she asked again.

Her eyes were wet with tears and Zayn hoped that she wasn’t having flashbacks, memories of Perrie looking sickly and feverish and pale, just as Harry did. “He’s fine, sweetheart. Can you help Louis find some medicine in the cabinet? Show him where we keep it?” Zayn suggested.

She nodded again, her expression both serious and determined, and Alex took hold of Louis’s hand and said firmly, “This way.”

A smile lingered on Louis’s lips as she led him across the hallway and into the loo. She stopped and looked at him pointedly, her arms in the air. “Are they here?” he asked, pointing to the cabinet above the sink.

“Up,” she demanded.

Louis pouted and asked, “No manners for me today, missy?”

Alex looked abashed and then asked, “Please?”

Louis smiled and said, “Good girl. Of course.” He lifted her up and rested her on his hip as he opened the cabinet. “Where’s the medicine?”

But when he looked over at Alex, she wasn’t paying attention. Her face was buried in Louis’s shoulder and she was quietly weeping into the ratted fabric of his shirt. “Harry no leave please,” she begged. “He no leave like mummy.”

“Oh Alex,” Louis said softly. He hugged Alex close to his chest and said, “Harry isn’t going anywhere, sweetheart. He’s just got a fever. I bet you’ve had a fever before, haven’t you? Where you feel all hot and sleepy?”

Alex nodded and wiped at her eyes. “Mummy had them too,” she wept.

“Shh,” he said quietly, cradling her to his chest. “Don’t you worry for a minute about Harry. He’s going to be just fine.”

“No leave,” she wailed.

Her tears were subsiding but she never stopped crying. “He won’t leave, darling,” Louis whispered. He kissed the top of her head and said, “Would you like me to go find your daddy? You should cuddle with him while I care for Harry.”

“Daddy please,” Alex said politely. Her voice cracked and was rough from her tears, and it broke Louis’s heart.

He wandered into the bedroom with her and Zayn looked up in a panic. “Now what,” he muttered under his breath. Zayn stood and rushed across the room to pull Alex into a tight embrace. “What’s the matter, Alex?”

“Harry no go like mummy,” she sobbed.

Zayn looked positively heartbroken and looked to Louis. Sadly, Louis shrugged and said, “She asked it out of nowhere. I dunno what happened. I’m so sorry.”

“Not to worry,” he said, quite obviously stressed by the situation. He was worrying a lot, whether he wanted to let on about it or not. “I’ll just… dinner will have to wait. I’ll get her all tucked in with a program on the telly and… can you…?”

He turned to look at Harry, who was lying there pitifully, drenched in sweat. “I’ve got him,” Louis nodded.

When the doorbell rang, Zayn nearly fell over as he turned around, the stress from everything disorienting him. Alex was still crying into his chest and Louis had begun to coax Harry out of bed, ready to prepare him a tepid bath to hopefully bring the fever down. “I doubt anything of mine will fit him, but I’ve got clean pajamas in my room, end of the hall, middle right drawer of the dresser,” Zayn instructed. The doorbell rang again and he shouted out, “I’m coming!”

Zayn left the room, Alex nuzzled against his chest, and he descended the stairs as he heard Louis dragging Harry out of bed and into the bathroom. When he opened the door, Zayn was shocked to see Niall standing there with a suitcase, jacket wrapped tightly around him. “Is this a bad time?” Niall asked before Zayn could even get out a greeting. He’d noticed Alex’s sobbing immediately.

Alex sniffled and tried to stop as she turned to look at who the visitor was. “N-no, come in,” Zayn said, stepping back to allow Niall respite from the cold.

“What’s going on? Is everything alright?” Niall asked as he stood awkwardly in the foyer.

“Erm… well,” Zayn began awkwardly.

“Why Mr. Horan visit?” Alex asked in a soft, timid voice.

Zayn wasn’t quite sure, but he didn’t need to know, thankfully, because Niall was answering for himself. “Well, I was going to fly home to Mullingar to see family for the holidays, but there’s a horrible storm and flights have been cancelled. I didn’t think you guys would have much company and I mean… we’re friends, so I thought I’d offer to come by, maybe fix up a nice dinner for you guys,” Niall explained. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a moment later, he heard a rather loud thud.

“We’re fine!” a strangled sounding voice came from down the hallway.

“Y-you’ve got visitors though,” Niall said nervously, suddenly feeling foolish for dropping in on Zayn’s family. “I’ll just be going.”

“No,” Zayn said quickly.

He stood between Niall and the door and looked at him, a mixture of relief and confusion in his eyes. Zayn had yet to figure out just what Niall was to him, because he was more than just Alex’s teacher, and he even felt like more than just a friend. But that all felt like cheating, like betrayal, because Zayn had been married, but he’d never been divorced. He was a widower, but he didn’t know what the window was, or if he’d ever actually recover from losing her. But Niall was comfort, and he was relaxation, and he was what Zayn needed to stay sane that holiday season. “Please stay,” he pleaded. “That was… well, remember Harry?”

“The young bloke that makes your coffee?” Niall asked curiously. “What’s he doing here?”

Zayn sighed. “Well… he and his boyfriend are in a rough spot. Their flat is shoddy and he’s caught a terrible cold from it. I’ve got them here for the holidays so Harry can get well but right now he’s not. He’s got a fever of thirty-nine and Alex is afraid that he’ll leave like Perrie did, and… I could really use some help,” he pleaded. “I’d love it if you stayed. We’ll have a proper Christmas.”

Niall looked at Zayn curiously and said, “You told me last week that you don’t celebrate Christmas.”

Zayn was quiet for a moment, pensive and brooding, until he finally confessed, “Perrie loved it. Not for the gifts or the food or the _religion_ , but because of the family. Decorations and crafts and snowflakes on the window sill and sweaters and… so much of this holiday reminds me of her. I don’t want to disappoint her this year… it’s our first Christmas without her.” Zayn sighed and looked around, a horrid laugh escaping his lips as he said, “We haven’t even got a tree, or gifts, or decorations. I’ve let her down.”

Niall didn’t know what to say. The silence was thick and tension was palpable, and after a moment, Alex spoke up softly and said, “Mummy loves us, daddy. Always. That’s what Ms. Jesy say.”

Zayn looked down at Alex, shocked. “What did you say, sweetheart?” he asked.

Alex looked up at her father earnestly and said, “Ms. Jesy say that mummy loves us lots and lots. And that’s because she’s watching us now. She protect us.”

Zayn nearly burst out in tears just hearing his daughter sound so wise and so at peace with it all. Niall stepped in to rub Zayn’s back and he said, “It’s Christmas Eve. We’ve still got plenty of time to decorate. You’ve got stuff somewhere, I’m sure.”

He nodded and Alex said, “I remember where!”

Excitedly, she squirmed to get out of her father’s arms and stood looking up at Niall expectantly. “Follow me!” she smiled.

Niall shrugged off his jacket and hung it in the hallway. Zayn smiled and nodded, encouraging him to follow after Alex, and then he decided to bring a glass of water to the bedroom for Harry. He found Harry lying in the bath, and he pointedly avoided looking at the younger man’s body as he stepped into the loo. Louis was nowhere to be found. “Harry? Where’s Louis?” Zayn asked as he stepped in.

He busied himself with the cupboard to find Harry some fever reducing medication. Harry’s voice was low and groggy, like he’d been asleep for days, as he said, “Clothes.” After a pause, Harry spoke again, so forlorn and upset, “’s his bir’day…”

Zayn turned to look at Harry curiously. He poured out the proper dosage of medicine and brought that with the glass of water to the side of the bath. Zayn handed them to Harry and asked, “It’s Louis’s birthday?”

Harry just nodded. Lazily, he reached out to take the pills, swallowing each one down separately and slowly. His moves were all lethargic and delayed, but he seemed to be relaxed under the water. Louis appeared in the doorway moments after, a pair of shorts and a plain tank top in his hands. “Good. We’ll want as few clothes on him as possible so he can sweat it out,” Zayn nodded. “Put him back in the bed and keep giving him water. His fever should break soon; he’s been like this for a while.”

Louis nodded and as Zayn moved to leave, Louis’s hand on his upper arm stopped him. “Thank you for this,” Louis said gratefully. “Really. Thank you.”

Zayn had no idea just how much Louis was thanking him for, but he nodded in return, acknowledging what Louis said. They shared an intense gaze back and forth for a moment before Louis turned to give Harry his attention once more. Zayn wandered back downstairs, only to find piles of boxes, all of them full of Perrie’s favorite Christmas decorations. Niall was rifling through them as Alex gave him lots of instructions. Zayn laughed a little and stepped inside. “I erm… well, I’ve got the food for a nice Christmas meal, but I was wondering if maybe you’d mind going down the street to buy a cake before it closes?” Zayn asked. “I can give you some money for it.”

“It’s fine, no problem,” Niall insisted.

“Cake’s for birthdays, daddy!” Alex giggled.

Zayn shushed her quickly and she instantly looked really excited. “It _is_ a birthday though!” he told her with a grin.

Alex’s jaw dropped in an excited o-shape, and she asked, “Who!?”

Niall was interested as well, and he watched how happy Alex got when Zayn said, “Louis!”

Alex clapped excitedly and Niall asked for clarification, “That’s the boyfriend, right? I don’t believe I’ve met him?”

“Right,” Zayn nodded. “He’s currently caring for his boyfriend in the guest room. He deserves some celebration though. It’s the only thing Harry could really say to me.”

“I’ll get one right away,” Niall said to Zayn. Then he turned to Alex and said, “You two sort out everything so when I get back, we can decorate, okay?”

Alex nodded enthusiastically and squirmed again until Zayn put her down. She ran to all the boxes even though she couldn’t un-latch the lids on any of them, and Niall shrugged on his jacket. “Be right back,” he said, and Zayn waved as he walked back out into the cold.

Maybe their first Christmas without Perrie wouldn’t be so bad after all.

*

Niall arrived back with a cake in record time, and with him he’d also brought some pre-made sugar cookie dough and a few tubes of icing. Zayn looked a bit surprised at all that Niall had brought, between that and the fixings for a rather large Christmas dinner, but he didn’t even have time to ask for an explanation. Niall just nodded insistently and said, “You go buy gifts. Louis’s taking good care of Harry and Alex and I can make some cookies. Don’t worry about me; just get stuff for the others.”

Niall didn’t let on that he had a whole pile of stuff in his car, waiting for Christmas morning when he’d sneak them under the tree before everyone woke. Alex wandered in when she saw Niall at the door again, and she asked, “Mr. Horan going buh-bye?”

“Not at all!” Niall said happily. “I bought a cake and some cookie dough. We can make cookies. Would you like that?”

“Yes!” Alex cheered happily. “Mummy maked cookies now Mr. Horan make cookies yay!”

Niall laughed and he picked her up, propping Alex’s petite body on his hip as he said, “You know what? While I’m here in your house, you don’t have to call me Mr. Horan, did you know that?”

Alex looked shocked and she gasped as she asked, “What!?”

With a smile, Niall nodded and said, “I have a first name just like you do, Miss Malik. You can call me Niall. But only here, okay? At school you need to call me Mr. Horan because I’m your teacher. Can you do that?”

“Your name Niall?” she asked curiously. Niall nodded, and Alex tested out, “Niall Horan? You Niall Horan and me Alex Malik?”

“Exactly,” Niall nodded. “You’re a smart girl.”

Alex preened at the praise and she wrapped her little arms around Niall’s neck as she gave him a hug. He carried her into the kitchen and turned on the oven to pre-heat it while they rolled out the dough. Alex was ecstatic that she had someone to bake cookies with again. Niall was just glad that he could give her that, because he knew some children had difficulty when a routine, even if it was just a yearly occurrence, was disrupted after such a loss. He was glad to provide them all with some relief and help for the holidays.

As Alex began to stamp out shapes in the dough, Louis wandered into the kitchen. “Hi Tommo!” Alex cheered. “We bake cookies!”

Louis smiled at her and said, “That’s great, sweetheart! I love cookies!” When he looked up to see that she wasn’t making them with Zayn, but rather making them with someone he hadn’t met instead, Louis faltered. “Erm… I’m Louis?”

“Right,” Niall nodded. He smiled, but his hands were covered in flour so he didn’t shake Louis’s hand. “I’m Niall Horan, Alex’s teacher?”

As Louis set on a pot of tea for himself and Harry, he asked Niall how he came to be at Zayn’s home for the holidays. He recognized the name from Harry’s woeful tale about how this was the man he’d thought Zayn was cheating on someone with, and for a moment he kind of wondered if Harry’s instincts hadn’t been as wrong as they initially seemed. There was something domestic about Niall and Zayn, the fact that Niall could just drop by unannounced and he’d get to care for Zayn’s daughter. It wasn’t average, to put it simply.

When the tea was finished, Louis poured it into two mugs and put it on a tray. He smiled at Niall and then told Alex to make an extra delicious, chubby gingerbread man for him, to which she said, “You got it!”

Louis and Niall both chuckled at her enthusiasm, and then Louis went back to the guest room to care for Harry. Harry’s fever hadn’t broken yet, and he was sweating profusely even under no blankets, covered in just a pair of boxers and a thin shirt. “Hazza, it’ll be okay,” Louis said softly as he patted at Harry’s forehead. He pushed the sweaty hair out of his face and dabbed it with a cold cloth. In a voice hardly above a whisper, Louis pleaded, “ _Please_ be okay, Hazza.”

Truth be told, Harry had never been this sick before. Usually Harry could shake it right off but this time he wasn’t. This time, he could hardly stay conscious on his own. Louis was freaking out. If they weren’t so poor, so busy caring for their families back home that they couldn’t fully support themselves, Harry wouldn’t have gotten this sick. He wouldn’t be battling something so miserable. Maybe with better jobs they could get a nicer apartment, pay their heating bills and keep healthy and warm during the winter. But they didn’t have better jobs, and they weren’t really qualified for better jobs, and they’d be wracked with guilt if they ditched Simon, too.

It was a horrid situation but Louis knew they couldn’t just _escape_ it. They were trapped in these jobs, their honor and their loyalty keeping them from moving up in the world. And now it was threatening Harry’s life and well-being. Louis felt deep within him that they needed a change. But… he didn’t know how. Louis had no idea how to change things and that left him feeling as though he’d let Harry down.

When Zayn arrived home, he made sure that Niall was keeping Alex occupied in the other room as he walked in with bags full of gifts. Alex was having an amazing time icing her cookies that they’d baked, and Louis was still sitting dutifully at Harry’s side, hoping to help him break the damn fever. Since Niall had put up the tree earlier, it was easy for Zayn to just put six boxes underneath his tree, three for Alex and the rest for his three guests. He felt proud, like Perrie was watching down on them and _smiling_ , and it filled his heart with a warm, loving feeling. This is what the holidays were supposed to feel like, Zayn told himself. He smiled and looked proudly at the decorative living room before he wandered into the kitchen to see Alex, icing all over her fingers and arms and face, but having the time of her life as she decorated just as she had every Christmas before.

Niall was laughing and enjoying his time with Alex, and it made Zayn’s heart fill with love and pride. How he’d managed to find Niall and gain his friendship during the ordeal of losing his wife, Zayn would probably never know or understand.

They all had Nando’s takeout at Niall’s insistence for dinner that night, and Louis forfeited his share in favor of feeding Harry some cheap tin-can soup that Zayn had found in his cupboard. It was the only soup he seemed to own, and Harry needed nutrients and liquids.

Harry managed to trudge his way downstairs, however, and Zayn had a sneaky feeling why. Sick, tired eyes gazed up at Zayn from where Harry lay pitifully in a cocoon of blankets, and Zayn just nodded. He’d taken care of things so Louis could have a proper birthday celebration. As they all sat around, and Louis tried to convince Harry to go back up to bed, Zayn walked into the kitchen with Alex. He lit the candles and then told Alex, “Sing nice and loud okay? Be an extra voice since Harry is sick.”

Happy to fulfill her mission, Alex nodded proudly and follower her father and Niall into the living room as they sang ‘Happy Birthday’ at the top of their lungs. Niall harmonized with Zayn surprisingly well and Alex stayed on tune the whole time as she belted the song out louder than the other two men combined (who weren’t putting in much effort to begin with). Even Harry sang along until his throat became too sore and he burst out coughing. Louis just looked shocked. “How did you…?” he trailed off in confusion.

He looked up at Zayn, who just smiled and nodded towards Harry as he explained, “He told us. Happy birthday, Louis.”

“You didn’t have to do this,” Louis spoke softly, feeling guilty that they’d spent money on him. “I prefer not to get older, anyway.”

“Well, it’s unavoidable,” Zayn shrugged, “but enjoy it, okay? It’s a good cake and Alex loves birthdays.” Alex nodded happily at Zayn’s side. Louis blew out the candles and she cheered, and then Zayn asked, “How old are you, anyway?”

“Twenny-one,” Harry slurred with a coy smile.

Louis glared over at Harry, but Louis wasn’t as mad as he made it seem. Harry knew it, too, and the never-fading smile on Harry’s pale face told the rest of the men there that everything was fine. Niall cut the cake and gave a slice to everyone, including Harry, who managed to eat a bit of it. Louis ate, albeit reluctantly, and he just smiled at Harry when he thought nobody was looking.

Zayn watched with a sly eye as Harry’s hand found its way to Louis’s, the digits slipping together seamlessly, the way their eyes locked and the whole world seemed to disappear. It was the love like he’d felt with Perrie, and while he’d lost it, Zayn couldn’t find it in himself to be bitter, because the young men struggling through their younger years and lounging about on his couch had it now. That kind of love was a beautiful thing and Zayn was incredibly happy for them.

Long after everyone in the house had gone to bed, Louis lay next to Harry and tried to keep him warm, snuggling him close and rubbing his back. He kissed his forehead and really just hoped that Harry could break the fever. Around three o’clock that morning, Harry rolled over to face Louis. When he did, he just buried his face in Louis’s neck and began to sob. Louis couldn’t sleep when Harry was so miserable and sick, so he was awake for all of it. “Hazza, what’s wrong?” Louis asked softly. He rubbed Harry’s back and tried to calm him, but it wasn’t working.

Harry was near hysterics as he cried into Louis’s neck and sobbed, his whole body trembling and shaking with the weight of whatever it was. It was scaring Louis, the way Harry was sobbing so openly, so loudly. It was so sudden and out of nowhere. He held Harry tight and had no idea what was going on, terror filling his every bone as silent tears fell down his own cheeks as he tried so hard to make it okay. Harry’s tears never subsided as Louis held him until nearly forty-five minutes later, when exhaustion took over and Harry passed out against his chest.

Terrified, Louis sniffled and let a few more tears fall. He’d never seen anyone like that before, especially not someone he loved and cared about as much as Harry. “Please be okay, Harry,” he begged, his voice cracking and filled with emotion. “Please be okay.”

Louis must have dozed off sometime after that, because when he woke, Harry was shuffling in his arms and gazing up at Louis innocently. “How are you feeling?” Louis asked nervously. He wasn’t sure if he should bring up the fit Harry had the night previous, or if he should just let it go.

Harry’s voice was stiff and groggy, but he showed the traces of a smile as he replied, “Better.”

Overjoyed, Louis pulled him into a massive hug. Harry laughed and held Louis in return, and they stayed there just a little longer until there was a tiny fist pounding at their door. “Father Christmas come! Hurry Tommo! And Harry too please!” Alex’s tiny little voice called through the door.

Louis chuckled and he looked down at Harry. “Do you feel like joining the rest, or do you want to stay in bed?” he asked. “I can tell them you’re still asleep if you’d like.”

“No,” Harry shook his head. “I want to join. I should thank Zayn.”

Louis grinned mischievously and said, “ _Niall_ is in there, too. Apparently teachers are welcome in his home _overnight_.” Louis looked positively scandalized.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry asked curiously.

“I see the way they look at each other,” Louis announced proudly as he climbed out of bed. “I think they might have something going on, just like you thought.”

Harry was extremely confused, and he climbed out of bed slowly. Louis handed him sweatpants and a sweatshirt to change into and then said simply, “You’ll see. Trust me.”

Harry shook his head and wasn’t quite so sure that Louis was right, but he didn’t say a word. Instead he just wandered into the living room slowly, Louis right behind him. “Harry!” Zayn said with surprise. “How are you feeling?”

“Better today, thank you,” Harry replied. He was still not feeling well but he was getting better, and that’s what mattered. Niall carried over a box of tissues and handed it to him just in case. “Happy Christmas, everyone.”

“Yes Happy Christmas!” Alex jumped up and down in her pink and blue spotted pajamas in the center of the room. “Lots of presents!”

Harry and Louis were shocked at how many gifts there were under the tree. Zayn knelt down next to Alex and helped her begin to hand them out. Needless to say, every guest in the Malik home was surprised to find several gifts at their feet. Louis and Harry felt a bit guilty because they didn’t have anything to give to the rest. Louis almost wanted to refuse to open the gifts, but it wouldn’t have been polite.

Alex’s gift-opening was the highlight of it all, because she was so in awe of everything she received and shouted thank you about a million times. When Alex was distracted by a fancy new doll that she could dress herself, Louis said to both Niall and Zayn, “These gifts are amazing, but you really didn’t have to give me anything. I haven’t got anything in return.”

“Louis, I insist. Keep the gift,” Niall said to him, even when he saw Louis’s frown.

Zayn sighed and said, “Look. The two of you are really great people. You’re so selfless because you’re willing to live the way you are just to help your families even when it’s not your responsibility. Nobody faults you for that. We just… wanted to help.”

Niall and Zayn shared a look between them, and then turned their attention back to the others. Harry was confused and he asked, “What do you mean?”

“I want you two to stay here. Move out of your flat. It’ll be the death of you and I won’t lose another friend in my lifetime, I swear,” Zayn said seriously. “I mean it.”

“We couldn’t possibly-,” Louis began to protest.

“I insist,” Zayn cut him off. “Just until you two can save up and get a safer place.”

The look on Zayn’s face was serious, like he was using one of his “dad” faces to get them to listen, to stop arguing, and just accept what he was saying. Harry looked troubled, but he nodded and said softly, “Thank you.”

Louis was too proud to say anything, because part of him wanted to refuse because he didn’t need the help. Instead, another idea came to mind and he turned to face Harry and asked, “What about Liam?”

“He’ll move in with Danielle, you know that. I actually think they might’ve already,” Harry said softly. “They’d be married right now if they could afford it.”

Nobody said a word as Louis seemed to seriously consider the offer. Harry knew that they didn’t have a choice. “It’ll help us get caught up on bills,” Louis said absentmindedly, and Harry looked at him with worry.

“What bills? I thought we were fine?” he asked quickly.

Louis looked embarrassed and he confessed, “I didn’t want you guys to worry.”

“ _That’s_ why we haven’t got heat,” Harry realized.

Louis’s face was red and he looked so humiliated, like he’d failed at being an adult, the responsible and eldest out of all three of them. But Harry wasn’t angry. He just understood. “Mum needed gifts for the girls. Plus there’s the new babies and I just… I had to help,” Louis explained softly.

“I know,” Harry nodded. “I understand, I know.”

Harry’s lack of anger was shocking; Louis couldn’t believe just how understanding Harry was. Niall and Zayn and Alex all let them have a moment before Zayn asked slowly, “So… is that a yes?”

Louis sat back and looked at Zayn curiously. After a moment’s pause, Louis said tentatively, “Yes, but… we haven’t got a car and we work all the time.”

“You can’t keep working there,” Niall said seriously. “You need better paying jobs, or to go to school, or something.”

“It’s not that easy,” Louis pointed out.

“Oh?” Zayn asked softly. He looked between Harry and Louis nervously, and then held out the newspaper.

 **Famed One Direction Café Closes After Fifty Year Run**  
London’s favorite hole-in-the-wall café, the One Direction  
Café, will be closing after remaining open for fifty years.  
The owner, Simon Cowell, has settled on all paperwork and  
bills, listed the property on the market, and December 30  
will mark the final day of business for the company. Cowell  
and his three staff members have no immediate plans to  
move shop or reopen in the future.

Harry’s eyes were wet and teary and Louis looked furious. “He didn’t tell us!” Louis shouted. “This is shit!”

Alex looked up at Louis with wide eyes and covered her ears. She knew a bad word when she heard it. Niall reached out for Alex to reassure her that everything was okay, but he could tell that Louis was probably a loose cannon when he was angry. He’d learned it in the few short days he’d known him. “I’m sorry,” Zayn sighed. “I saw it and I knew I had to help.”

“We don’t need your charity,” Louis snapped.

“Lou, don’t,” Harry said softly. He reached out for Louis and took his hand, and instantly Louis relaxed in his grip and just sat down, looking defeated. “We need his help. We can’t survive without him.”

“It’s not charity,” Zayn explained softly. “But you guys helped me through a rough time and it’s the least I can do to thank you.”

Alex looked timidly at both Louis and Harry, and they realized just how much they’d helped. She looked so full of joy, so happy now, and that had been partially because they’d helped Zayn cope with everything in his life. Alex waved at them and asked softly, “You live with us? Please?”

“Come here, doll,” Louis said, holding out his arms. Alex rushed over to him and gave him a big hug. He hugged her in return and he said, “We would love to be your roommates, Alex.”

“Roommates?” she asked curiously.

“It means friends who live together,” Zayn explained. “And they’re our friends and we asked them to live here, so that means they’d be our roommates.”

“Yay!” Alex smiled. She hugged Louis again and said, “Love Tommo and Harry!”

Louis smiled and Harry chuckled from where he snuggled up on the sofa. Alex wouldn’t release Louis from a hug until he said, “We love you too, Alex.”

“Good!” she said happily.

After that, Christmas was better. Louis used Zayn’s phone to contact Liam, who was spending Christmas with Danielle so he could be reached on her mobile. He explained the situation to Liam, who hadn’t seen the article yet. “It’s shit that Simon didn’t tell us,” Liam confessed, “But… I guess the timing is right. You guys have Zayn, and… well, Danielle beat me to it. She proposed today. It was sort of informal, but she just asked me when we woke up if we could spend every Christmas together for the rest of our lives and I asked if that meant what I thought it did, and… it did. We’re getting married. Probably just something small in the city with a few people, but we’re going to do it. We’ll do it between her dance shows.”

“Wow, Liam. Congrats,” Louis said earnestly.

The call ended shortly after that, and Louis shared the news with Harry, who wasn’t surprised in the least. “I’m so happy for them. I hope we can keep in touch with him,” Harry said softly.

“You’ll be able to,” Zayn insisted. “I’m going to get both of you mobiles later this week. You need them, and it’s no extra cost to me because we’ve got a massive discount through the University I work at.”

Louis and Harry both looked shocked, but they knew they couldn’t argue. Besides, Zayn brought up a good point. “I was hoping the two of you could help me with Alex when you’re not working while I’m doing stuff at Uni because I’m teaching extra courses this spring. This way you can reach me if you need anything; or you can reach each other if you’re apart. Mobiles are just useful and you both need them,” Zayn explained.

Everything seemed to be coming together, but there was still one last loose end: Niall and Zayn. Louis had that scheming look on his face, and Harry just grinned from his pile of blankets in the corner of the couch when Louis volunteered to go get a carton of eggnog for them all that evening after a rather filling and delicious Christmas meal. Niall had cooked most of it with some help from Zayn, and Alex bragged repeatedly about how she’d made the cookies. They were honestly quite delicious and she preened at the compliments.

Louis left and was gone for quite a while even though a shop selling eggnog wasn’t far away. When he returned and asked Zayn and Niall to serve it all along with some more cookies, Louis climbed all over the furniture. His face was full of mischief and Harry liked to see it; he liked knowing that Louis was back to “normal” so to speak. He hung mistletoe in the doorway near the kitchen and then got down to admire his handiwork.

Alex walked over to Harry and asked what it was, to which he replied, “If two grown-ups get stuck under the mistletoe together, they have to kiss.”

“You want to kiss Harry? He sick,” Alex said, and then pulled a grossed out face.

Louis laughed and said, “I already have, silly! He’s my boyfriend! But no, we put that up there for your daddy and Niall.”

“Daddy kiss Niall?” Alex asked curiously.

“Yes. They’re very good friends so they should kiss,” Louis explained with a smile.

Alex grinned and clapped and said, “Good! Niall love Daddy, me see it!”

Harry chuckled from his pit of blankets and Alex looked so proud that she picked up on something like that. Louis’s grin grew even wider and then they heard footsteps. “Shh, listen!” he whispered.

Alex paused and listened with wide eyes and a grin on her face. She bounced on the balls of her feet because she knew what was coming. Niall and Zayn were walking in with several mugs of eggnog in their hands, but then Alex shouted, “STOP DADDY NIALL STOP NOW!”

They both froze in the doorway, alarmed, and Louis walked over to casually take the mugs from both of them while Alex gazed eagerly and excitedly at the doorframe above their heads. Zayn looked absolutely shocked at the sight of the mistletoe, but Niall just had a look of hilarity on his face.

“Kiss!” Alex requested sweetly.

And when Zayn turned to look at Niall, who just had a look of both amusement and slight concern on his face, he didn’t hear a resounding echo of _you have Perrie, don’t cheat on Perrie!_ in his head. Instead, he just heard his heart pounding fast. Because whatever it was that he felt for Niall, it was more than friendship. Zayn could recognize that.

And when Niall closed the gap and slid his hand over Zayn’s scruffy cheek to pull him into a kiss, Zayn wasn’t embarrassed or upset. It didn’t feel like he was replacing Perrie or cheating on her. The feelings for Niall weren’t the same as the feelings for Perrie. There was fondness and love, yes, but not the exciting, heart-stopping thrill of Perrie.

Instead, Niall was familiarity, and he was companionship, and he was an easy kind of love that made Zayn feel grounded and safe. Perrie lifted him up, brought him to new heights and new experiences, to break him out of his shell and create who he really is, to bring the inner Zayn out. And now that the inner Zayn had been freed, he could just be still and be calm. He could let Niall love him and take care of him, and he could melt into his kisses like he was right there in the living room on Christmas night. Zayn could hold Niall’s sweater in his fists and press into the kiss and he could feel at home, because this love was new and different, and it wasn’t something he wanted to lose. Losing love once was enough and Zayn wouldn’t do it again.

By the time Zayn broke out of the kiss for air, Alex was standing by his leg with little tears in her eyes. She reached up for him and Louis and Harry looked troubled, because they didn’t understand. “What’s the matter, Alex?” Zayn asked with concern as he lifted her up.

She sniffled and met her father’s eyes, and all she said was, “I’m so happy, daddy!”

Alex didn’t understand her emotions or what was happening, really, but she knew enough to realize that she was overjoyed for her father H had found love again, and she’d been given a new family, a larger family, because Perrie would always be her mother. But Niall could help care for her, and she had Tommo and Harry to play with, and there was someone there for her no matter where she turned.

Zayn smiled fondly and held Alex close to his chest as they all shared a chuckle at how adorable Alex was with her happy tears and big heart. “I love you, Alex.”

“I love you too, daddy,” she said, a sob escaping her lips. “I love everyone!”

He snuggled her on the sofa and Niall sat next to him, Zayn on one side and Harry on the other, and he draped an arm around Zayn’s shoulders. Harry looked up at Louis, who was now perched on the arm of the sofa right next to Harry, and suddenly it all felt right. Everything just felt like it was supposed to be.

And perhaps maybe, things were now how they had been meant to be from the start.

Falling into this new life seemed simple for everyone involved, for the most part. Niall went back to being Alex’s teacher, and he lived in his own flat and had his own social life, but he still found time to visit Zayn and Alex, and he’d always chat about football with Louis or music with Harry. Zayn kept teaching, and he enjoyed the courses he taught so much more now, and it just all seemed to be perfect.

Louis found a job working as a stage hand for a proper London theatre, just pulling strings backstage to change backdrops, and creating the props and moving them between scenes. It was a job with odd hours that sometimes got to be a bit strenuous, but he enjoyed it. Louis liked being in a theatre. Sometimes he wanted to be out on the stage, but amongst all the professionals he didn’t feel like it was his place. Instead, he stood in the wings, coaching and moving and sometimes even reminding frazzled actors of their lines before they dashed on stage; Louis tended to memorize the entire production within weeks.

Harry, on the other hand, found it easy to slip into the café life again. He now worked at a bistro near Zayn’s house, and it was actually rather enjoyable. The clientele was a bit different, but Harry’s favorite customers were as they always had been; the elderly couples, the people with interesting stories to tell. They could be found in every crevice of the city, and in every café. Harry missed his old customers, but one couple had been so determined to find him that they had actually succeeded, and Harry got to see them every morning for their coffee and the newspaper, just as he always had.

Neither went to school even when Zayn suggested it, but Zayn didn’t pressure them. He knew that they liked what they were doing, and that they felt secure in their jobs. Harry earned enough to send home a good sum to his mum, but he saved a lot of it because one day he _did_ want to go to Uni. Louis, however, did not. But Louis seemed to be trying to work his way up in the theatre, already being promoted to head of backstage operations thanks to his hard work (and a lot of the actors thanking him over and over again for remembering their lines just in case). Louis didn’t need Uni, they all decided. He wouldn’t thrive there.

Harry and Louis shared the guest bedroom at Zayn’s, which was now no longer a guest bedroom, technically speaking. It belonged to Harry and Louis now, and Alex just acknowledged that they were part of the family. Tommo played lots of games with Alex, like dress up and dolls and all sorts of creative things. Alex liked to read books with Harry, and more often than not they could be found sitting together at the tiny table in her room, coloring pictures in her coloring books with Alex coveting all the pink crayons for herself. Harry supposed that was alright; he much preferred blue, anyway.

But of all the things that had been discovered at Christmastime, there was one that hadn’t been seen since that evening: Niall and Zayn. Harry understood that the men needed time; Zayn couldn’t just recover from losing Perrie in the blink of an eye, or even in one short year. But Niall hadn’t shown any sort of interest in pursuing the relationship. The kiss had looked so powerful, so intense as it happened, and it was such a big deal that it had caused Alex to _cry_ in happiness, but now it was just that… a kiss. It had happened. But it hadn’t happened since.

For weeks Louis wracked his brain for ideas; he knew that there was a way, somehow, to get the two of them to see each other again. Harry would always argue that Niall would come over for a night or two on the weekends, but that didn’t count. “He’s visiting all of us! He needs to take Zayn out on a _date_!” Louis insisted.

Harry would usually just chuckle and shake his head, because Louis could be rather strange at times. He was strangely fixated on Niall and Zayn as a couple, and it was fine, but it was also none of their business.

But then an idea came to them in the form of a wedding invitation. Just around spring break, Harry and Louis received their invitations to Liam and Danielle’s wedding. It would be small, and it would take place in the theatre for which she was a dancer (incidentally, it _wasn’t_ the same theater at which Louis worked). The stage would be set and there would be a small crowd, just friends and family of the bride and groom, with a small dinner afterwards. It would be modest, but that was fitting for Liam and Danielle. They always found ways to make the best out of the very least.

Zayn was a bit shocked to find that he’d received an invitation as well. “Alex can be my plus one,” he said as he scribbled down on the RSVP note.

“No, you can’t do that,” Louis insisted quickly. “She doesn’t count, she’s a child!”

Alex, now filled with a bit more of Louis’s strong-willed spirit, aimed a rough kick at his shin and shouted, “Hey! I count! I’m big girl!”

Louis winced and sat down, clutching his shin. Zayn chuckled and Harry tried to hide his laughter as Zayn pulled Alex towards him gently. “Sweetheart, next time you get mad at Louis, don’t kick him, okay? That’s not nice.”

“I still yell?” she asked, pouting with those big eyes that always helped her get her way.

“When he’s wrong and being childish, yes, you can yell at Louis. But he knows you’re a big girl and he was just joking, wasn’t he?” Zayn said as he turned to look up at Louis.

Louis glared at him but nodded, and he winced as he massaged his aching shin. Alex kicked much harder than a six year old should be allowed to kick. Nobody spoke for a moment until Harry’s deep voice thrummed a suggestion, “Maybe you could bring Niall? I know Liam won’t mind, and one of us can list Alex as our plus one since we each got an invite.”

Alex lit up with excitement and Zayn appeared to be seconds away from groaning with disdain. “Please daddy? You and Niall kiss pretty,” Alex begged. “You never date him but at wedding you can!”

Harry smiled at how endearing Alex was, but decided to give Zayn a fair shot to make his own decision. “Alex, you know that your daddy and Niall get to see each other. He can say no if he wants to,” Harry reminded her softly.

Reluctantly, Alex sighed, “Okay…”

“Good girl,” Harry smiled, and he held his arms out for her.

Alex climbed onto his lap and snuggled up to his chest, and unlike Louis, Harry looked away to give Zayn a chance to consider the suggestion. Harry could see the way Zayn’s eyes lit up and he got so excited whenever he got to spend time with Niall. Harry also knew that Niall slept in the same bed as Zayn when he stayed over, even though he tried to make it seem as though he was sleeping on the pull out bed in the room upstairs that doubled as an office and guest bedroom. There was something more happening between Niall and Zayn; it was just that neither of them had felt like discussing it properly.

“I’ll think about it,” Zayn said to quell Alex’s melancholy.

It seemed to be enough for her, because she smiled and quickly changed the subject to a discussion about dresses and whether she could get a new one for the wedding. Louis, however, didn’t want to drop it. He bugged Liam as soon as he noticed that Zayn had mailed off the RSVP. Harry had already marked Alex as his plus one, so Zayn could have sent off the invite _without_ a bid for a plus one and that would make Louis quite angry. He knew that Niall and Zayn had feelings for each other, so _why_ weren’t they showing it!?

A new production at the theatre kept Louis distracted, though, and before he knew it, it was time for the wedding. Alex had long, dark hair that Harry managed to weave into acceptable looking pigtailed plaits, and she wore a beautiful pink dress with a glittery belt and matching glittery shoes. She was certainly ready for a spring wedding.

Harry and Louis both got new outfits for the occasion, hole-less dress pants and button down shirts, Harry’s with a print and Louis’s plain with a set of suspenders for style. They looked more cleaned-up and refined than Zayn had ever seen them. Alex’s jaw dropped at the sight of them. “You two look so good!” Alex cheered, jumping up and down and clapping her hands.

With a grin, Louis picked up Alex and hugged her as he said, “And you look beautiful! Who plaited your hair?”

“Harry!” she cheered.

Louis grinned over at Harry; he loved watching Harry interact with Alex. It wasn’t every day that Louis felt head-over-heels in love with Harry, but that wedding day was one of them. Usually he just felt the sort of casual, laid back love that made him comfortable in his choice to spend the foreseeable future with Harry. Other times he just found himself so overwhelmed with feelings and emotions that it was hard to realize that it was all actually happening to _him_. Louis felt unbelievably lucky. The best part about it all was that he didn’t even have to put that into words to tell Harry, because the two of them just _knew_. One look into Harry’s eyes told Louis that Harry felt the exact same, and that he didn’t have to worry. Everything would be fine.

Just as they were about to walk out the door, the doorbell rang. Alex looked confused, and she stayed on Louis’s hip as Harry stood next to him, and they watched as Zayn rushed past them, looking flushed and nervous as he adjusted his tie. He wore slacks and a button-down, his clothes all shades of brown and his scruff perfectly trimmed. When he opened the door, they all smiled at the sight of Niall on the doorstep, dressed up as well.

Niall wore light browns to complement Zayn’s darker browns, and his hair was cut differently, shaved shorter at the sides and quiffed up atop his head. He looked rather dapper, and Zayn seemed to think so as well if the flush in his cheeks was any indication. “Looks like we’re ready to go, then,” Zayn said, glancing over at Louis and Harry in hopes that they wouldn’t make a big deal out of the sight as Niall as his wedding date.

Louis just grinned knowingly and said, “Yes, let’s go. Two cars, then?”

Zayn nodded and handed his keys to Louis. Zayn often let Harry and Louis drive his car, so it wasn’t any sort of surprise. Louis, Harry, and Alex walked out to his car, and they noticed the way Zayn let Niall place a hand on the center of his back, lower towards his hips, as he led him towards his own car. Zayn and Niall drove separately to the wedding, and the whole time Alex kept talking about how happy she was that Niall was there.

Harry and Louis only shushed her once they arrived at the wedding, which was almost unnecessary because Alex was in complete awe at the sight of the theatre. The stage was draped in white chiffon and covered in thin rope lights that twinkled. The ambiance was perfect, and while there wasn’t much seating, it was perfect for Liam and Danielle. The entire ceremony was just utterly _them_ : simple, elegant, and so clearly a work of love.

Vows were exchanged, Louis and Harry held hands and shared loving squeezes, and Niall and Zayn subtly glanced at each other throughout the whole thing. Alex had tears in her eyes, as she was a rather sensitive young girl, but they were tears of happiness so nobody worried. Danielle gave her a big hug when she met her, and then Alex’s tears were replaced with a smile.

Liam sat down at a table with Louis, Harry, Niall, and Zayn as Alex and Danielle danced with some of the other girls in attendance after the dinner. “So… things have changed, “Liam observed as he glanced between them.

“Change is good,” Louis commented.

Liam conceded, because he agreed, “Yes, it is. I think that damn café closing was the best moment of our lives.”

“You’re probably right,” Harry commented. “I mean… did you hear what happened to our flat? It was condemned and demolished within a month after we moved out.”

“The walls were filled with asbestos and cracking down onto the concrete,” Liam said, laughing now even though it hadn’t been funny at the time. “It nearly killed you, Hazza.”

“Louis saved his life,” Zayn commented, looking over to make eye contact with Louis.

Louis wanted to protest, but the way Harry took his hand and rested his head on his shoulder made him close his mouth and just accept what was being said. “Still living with Zayn?” Liam asked curiously.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “For now.”

“You know Alex won’t let you leave,” Zayn said with amusement.

They all glanced over to Alex, who was dancing animatedly with all the other girls. She hopped around from one glittery shoe to the other, and Liam said, “You should enroll her in Danielle’s dance class.”

“She’s teaching now?” Harry asked curiously.

Liam nodded, and he turned to look at Zayn. “She’s trying to get a studio going. The theatre she performs with will let her use one of the rooms twice a week, and she wants to do a toddler ballet class. I’m sure Alex would love it,” Liam insisted.

Zayn only had to look once at the absolute happiness on Alex’s face before he decided, “She’ll be there.”

“I can take her if you’ve got late nights on campus,” Harry offered.

It was a given, that Harry would help if Zayn was busy.  He was the one home most often, especially now that Louis was moving up in the ranks at the theatre where he worked. Louis worked full time, as did Zayn, and Harry was enjoying the last of his teen years with a part-time job that he quite enjoyed. Alex was his little pal, and she liked that Harry would play any game with her or watch any show with her, even if he was “old” as she would put it. Since he was a child at heart, Harry was the perfect person to care for Alex when Zayn had to work.

“So what are you doing now that you’re not at the café?” Louis asked Liam; they’d sadly fallen out of touch with Liam since moving out of their flat and no longer working together.

Liam smiled and said, “I got a scholarship and I get to attend Uni. I’ll be studying business.”

“To help Danielle?” Zayn asked curiously.

“That’s the plan,” Liam replied with a nod. “Hopefully she can build it all up while I’m in school and by the time I’m done, she can make it into a big studio. She hopes to be done dancing at the theatre in a few years. Then she can devote her time to teaching dance and y’know… we’d like to have a family one day, too.”

“You will,” Louis insisted. He smiled at Liam and said, “We’ve always known you’d be first to have kids.”

“Well, make sure you lads give our kids playmates one day, yeah?” Liam asked. “Alex will be too old to hang out with any kids Danielle and I have.”

Louis blushed furiously, but Harry nodded and smiled as he said, “We will, one day. We’ve got to get out on our own first.”

“You’ll get there,” Zayn said confidently.

“Yeah, we will,” Harry added, just as confident as Zayn. He smiled over at Louis, and Harry knew and understood (and had for a while) that Louis needed a bit more persuasion. But everything would work out, Harry was sure of it.

A silence fell over the five of them as the songs switched and Alex’s cheering could be heard over the crowd as she shouted, “This is my jam!” Everyone let out a loud laugh, and Harry proudly sat there and thought to himself, _my Louis taught her that_. Louis smiled smugly knowing that Alex had begun to imitate him now.

“So, you two are a couple, then?” Liam asked, changing the subject as he gestured between Zayn and Niall.

Harry’s jaw dropped and Louis let out a hiss to try to stop Liam from asking, but it was too late. Zayn and Niall looked over at each other, flushing red, and then stammered over random syllables, neither quite sure how to respond.

Louis winced and wished that he could just say _yes_ , that his Christmas plan had worked and that Niall and Zayn were together, the last little piece of the puzzle to make everything work out _just so_. But he couldn’t. He had nothing to say other than _Liam, don’t ask that._ Louis had regretfully missed that opportunity as well though, and now they were all faced with the awkward consequences.

“Erm…” Niall stammered. He nodded to Zayn, who licked his lips and took a deep breath.

“We’d kind of been trying to keep things under wraps until we were sure, but… I think we’re as close to sure as we’re ever going to be…” Zayn explained slowly. He seemed so awkward, squirming in his seat and his line of sight focused on his hands instead of the rest of the group.

“So… that’s a yes, then?” Liam asked as he tried to coax the answer out of them.

Niall looked over at Zayn, up at Liam, and then down at Zayn’s hands. He covered them with one of his and he said, “Yeah, actually. We’re taking it slow, but… we’re happy together.”

Harry was beaming from ear to ear as soon as he heard it. He watched the way Zayn and Niall turned to face each other in the exact moment, the way there seemed to be a light burning in Zayn’s eyes that wasn’t there before. They fed off of each other’s happiness and somewhere between grins and blushes and a coy grasping of hands, Niall and Zayn answered the question completely.

“OH MY GOD!”

Everyone’s heads turned to see Alex sprinting towards the table. Her dress flew behind her as she rushed over to the table. “What’s hap’nin’?” she asked hurriedly, out of breath and smiling. “Daddy you tell everyone you love Niall yet?”

Zayn flushed and looked shocked as he stammered, “Wh-what?”

“Duh,” Alex smiled, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. “You love Niall and Niall love you. I see it since Christmas. You kiss and have sleepovers. I not stupid.”

She was so genuine and so amusing that everyone seemed to join in with some laughter as Niall and Zayn stared, dumbstruck. Louis chuckled and gave her a high five as he said, “That’s my girl.”

“Is that true?” Niall questioned, glancing over at everyone else.

“Why do you think we planted the mistletoe on Christmas?” Louis replied.

Both Niall and Zayn seemed rather embarrassed at this point, but Zayn laughed it off and said, “Yeah, alright, I love him. But we needed time. I… I needed time.”

A silence fell over everyone as they realized fully what Zayn meant. Some of the other guests watching didn’t quite understand, but Harry and Louis and Liam did, and they were the ones he was speaking mostly towards. Zayn had to accept that he was in love with someone else. He needed to come to terms with losing Perrie, with finding a place for her in his life forever, but making room for someone else. Niall wanted to care for Zayn, to be his friend and his companion and his lover, but Niall knew he could never take Perrie’s place in Zayn’s life.

Working it all out in Zayn’s head had been the hardest part, and Niall knew that. He swore to give Zayn all the time in the world – that their going public was based off of Zayn and how he was dealing with it all. Zayn couldn’t have been more appreciative if he tried.

“So am I right?” Alex asked impatiently, gazing between her father and Niall.

Niall smiled and scooped her up onto his lap. “Kind of. There’s one thing I need to do first,” Niall said to her.

“What?” Alex asked eagerly. She just wanted there to be a happy ending.

“Well, I need your permission, silly,” Niall told her with a grin. “Am I allowed to date your daddy?”

“DUH!” Alex shouted. She hugged Niall and smiled over his shoulder at her father, who looked incredibly happy. “Daddy love again yay!”

When Zayn leaned forward to kiss Niall right there in front of everyone, Louis looked away, choosing instead to fix his gaze on Harry. Harry, whose heart was so full of love and caring, whose mind was more preoccupied with everyone else’s well-being rather than his own. Harry, the young boy who traded shelter for helping his family, who chose to stick with Zayn even when he wasn’t sure whether Zayn was doing an awful thing or not, was now watching love right before his eyes.

And after all the heartache Harry had to watch, all the divorces, deaths, and other mishaps that were thrown his way time after time to witness helplessly, he deserved this. He deserved the love he got from Louis. But more than that, he deserved to see others that he cared about feel the same, that earth-shattering love that a person only finds in movies. Harry’s eyes were wet with emotion as he squeezed Louis’s hand, his grin still there on his face, stretching from ear to ear.

Louis watched the light in Harry’s eyes grow, that transformation from skeptic to believer. Harry lost his faith in love somewhere along the way, but just as Louis expected, it had come back. For them, the cup was more than half full, it was full to the brim, froth toppling over just the slightest as their fortune seemed to multiply at every turn.

And now Harry, loving, selfless Harry, got to feel that swelling in his chest. He got to experience the way his heart soared at another couple’s joy, and the way his stomach would do a funny little leap when he caught Louis sharing so lovingly at him. And the best part was, without even saying a word, Harry knew that Louis understood.

What’s better is that Harry could see that same light from Zayn’s eyes glowing deep within Louis’s eyes as well, and there was no greater joy to Harry than seeing that look in Louis’s eyes.

Alex’s laughter filled the room as suddenly every little bit of tension lifted from the air. People were happy, people were together, and most importantly, people believed.

And that was that.


End file.
